The Broomstick Train
by Soleil2
Summary: "They buried them deep, but they wouldn't lie still, For cats and witches are hard to kill." -Oliver Wendall Holmes
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Title is also not mine. It comes from the poem "The Broomstick Train" by Oliver Wendall Holmes.**

 **A/N: I'm not going to be posting this regularly like I am my other story, In the Pines. That's my priorty. But, if you've read In the Pines, you know that I had a maybe-concussion. That turned into a real concussion with orders not to do anything computer related for a week. Hence the lack of thank yous in that story. This was already typed and ready to go, so I'm basically going to use it as a filler until In the Pines is completed. Then I'll concentrate on this. Thanks so much for reading my babel. As always, you all rock.**

 **A/N2: Historical context (sorta). This is set on the East Coast, because the West Coast wasn't settled early enough (by the European and British colonists, I'm aware that people have lived on the West Coast for a very, very long time) to join in on the hysteria of the Salem Witchcraft Trials. Also, I know that Wicca is a real religion and that you don't harm anyone and that the term witch has been used to denigrate perfectly innocent women. Moreover, I know that women and men were slaughtered in the name of witchcraft throughout history. That said, throwing all that out the window for this.**

Mercy Borough

Prologue

Not too far from the road, just a short walk through the brambles and winter-deadened blueberry bushes, is a small clearing. It's not too strange. The woods are pock-marked with them – spots where an acorn or a pine cone has yet to fall. But nothing grows in this clearing. The trees that surround it grow outwards and twisted as they bend to avoid it. The tangle of wild blueberry bushes skirts its edges and the mountain laurel has yet to overtake it.

It's a dare: this clearing. A rite of passage for daring little boys and intrepid little girls. They poke and they prod, sending each other spilling on the lifeless soil. The loser, the dared, must remain in the clearing for five minutes – it's rumored that the person who lingers longer stays forever – and although they are brave, no one wants to be responsible for the capture of their friends.

It's been defiled with beer bottles and empty cups. Detritus from teenagers who party on its borders. Leaves have blown past it. Twigs have settled on it. But children who saw it when they were eight would recognize it at eighteen as unchanged when the rest of the world had changed so much. Maps have evolved, countries collapsed. While cartographers rush to the capture the new world in solid blocks of color, the clearing remains untouched.

The whispers, the stories told in the dark, say that this where they buried her. The whispers say she told them to bury her deep because she wouldn't lie still. And in the flicker of the firelight, the glow of the dying flashlight, the whispers wonder how deep is the grave? How strong is the protection of a layer of sand?

It began as these things always begin – a whisper, a rumor, a finger pointed by a jealous wife. "Witch" the word simmered in the air. "Witch" someone said a little louder. "No," someone said, but quietly, not wanting to draw the ire of the crowd. "Witch," someone yelled and the word swelled and grew. "Witch!" it was a clamor and a fear. There was fire and there was fury, but those who acted, acted at night. In the dark, armed with Bibles and God's own directive, "Suffer not a witch to live," they approached the small house. Candlelight flickered in its windows; smoke curled in wisps out of its chimney. Years later, when they would tell the story to their confessors, repenting their sins and dying, they would say the woods were silent. No night bugs, no animals moving through the underbrush. The wild turkeys did not trespass. The deer did not graze there.

They didn't knock. They circled the house, scattering salt and carrying rifles. They prayed to God and His Son for guidance as they prepared to rid their tiny farm community of the blight wrought upon it. God would see them through this they promised each other as they moved to the doors. She was just a woman – a woman who consorted with the devil.

She was asleep, they said. Propped up in a rocking chair, sewing in her lap. They tied her up quickly, ignoring her screams of terror, then fury, and then terror again as she realized her time upon the planet was almost at its end. The rope was tossed over a tree branch that looked thick and sturdy. Candles were tipped over and their flames licked at the floorboards and curtains. They lapped at the little bed tucked in its corner and the half-finished cradle by its side.

There would be no trial, no record of the event in the town's history. The shouts lowered to whispers to rumors to folk lore. But who was to say it was untrue? Who could point to something that said the little house never stood there? That the cradle was just a piece of melodrama designed to make a spooky story just a little worse? Although it was years after Salem and the horrors that unfolded there – manmade, hysteria born – the men in that clearing knew as they watched the evidence burn. "Witch," they whispered, "witch." Who's to say that they were wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Title is also not mine. It comes from the poem "The Broomstick Train" by Oliver Wendall Holmes.**

 **A/N:** Ohmigosh. **Thank you so much for the favorites and follows. And the reviews. And the well wishes. You're all lovely.**

Bella Swan slammed her locker door shut and shoved her bookbag onto her shoulder. The homecoming committee, of which she was reluctantly a member because she needed more activities on her transcript, was meeting during lunch on a day when she conveniently forgot hers. She hurried to the classroom that acted as the designated meeting spot and thought longingly of the carton of yogurt that she left on the kitchen counter. She would have to throw it when away she got home. Not for the first time, since leaving her lunch on the counter was not a new experience, she wished the school had an open campus policy. There had been a number of petitions; she had signed at least four in her three (point two) years there, but none had amounted to anything other than sheets of paper with illegible signatures, some of which bore a suspicious resemblance to Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse.

Her freshman year, the seniors told the new students that the principal and the schoolboard were afraid of the woods. Several years ago, the seniors told them, a couple of students wandered off and were never seen again. Bella knew the stories were just that – stories and rumors. She had lived in the same town for most of her life and had yet to see the woods swallow anyone whole. Still, she shivered, she didn't exactly want to go into them and found out.

Emmett McCarty, the senior class president, and the object of one of Bella's crushes, was tapping his pen on the desk top when she skidded into the classroom just ahead of the bell. He kept clearing his throat but no one was paying any attention. Bella and one of her best friends, Rosalie Hale, agreed that Emmett had been elected because he had looked cute in the yearbook. It was not his leadership skills.

She dropped her bags on the floor and winced at the crack that signaled the death of another pencil. At least, she hoped it was a pencil and not her iPod, which she might have accidentally left in her backpack. "I miss anything?" she asked Rosalie.

Rosalie shrugged, understanding that Bella meant the pre-meeting drama that normally happened when Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory repeatedly dropped things in front of Emmett to get his attention. "Nope, the gruesome twosome has been oddly quiet."

Bella glanced over her shoulder at the two girls who sat in a corner of the classroom. "Do you think they're worried about their college applications?" Bella had mailed her applications out a month ago but she still worried if she should apply to more schools.

Rosalie snorted and started giggling. "God, Bella, you're such a dork." She covered her mouth and waved a hand in front of her face to stem the laughter. "No, nerd. I think you're the only one stressing about that. Most of the rest of us still haven't applied yet."

Bella shoved her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheeks in her hands to cool the flush she could feel building in them. "My mom and dad made me. It's not like I had a choice."

Rosalie laughed harder and patted Bella's elbow sloppily. "You're such a goody-goody."

"I'm not," Bella mumbled into her hands.

"You so are." Rosalie nodded. "Name one bad thing you've done. You can't." She tilted her head in the direction of Jessica and Lauren. "Most likely they're hung over. Ali told me there was a party near the clearing last night."

"But it's only Friday." The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them and Rosalie started giggling again.

Emmett looked over at the sound and raised his eyebrow. "You okay over there, Red?"

"Yup." Rosalie nodded and sucked in a large gulp of air. "All good. Lead on, captain."

"That's president to you," he told her. "Ranks higher than captain."

"Oh, so sorry." Rosalie placed a hand over her chest. "I hope I didn't offend you." She opened her eyes wide then blinked rapidly and Bella wondered if she meant to look innocent.

"Something in your eye?" Bella whispered.

"Shut up." Rosalie nudged her in the side.

Emmett took advantage of the attention and called the meeting to order. Bella sighed and took out a notebook to record the minutes. She tried to force herself to pay attention to each member as they reported the status of their assigned tasks, but her mind wandered. She watched as her classmates fidgeted and drifted off slowly only to jerk back to attention when their names were called. She focused on Lauren and Jessica, who sat quietly in the corner, their heads braced in their hands. Despite her protestations, Bella knew she had a shockingly clean record. She didn't break curfew; she'd never been caught drinking, although, thanks to Rosalie, she'd been drunk; and she'd never caused her parents to worry over her like other parents did with their teenaged children. It wasn't that she wanted to be boring -she would never tell Rosalie, but she was almost jealous of Jessica and Lauren's hangover- but she didn't think she had it in her to be anything else. And she liked the repetition and patterns in her schedule. She was definitely boring.

When the meeting ended before the bell rang, she forced her notebook into her already full backpack and turned to Rosalie. "Have you ever been there?" she asked.

Rosalie flipped her out from under the strap of her messenger bag and looked at Bella. "Been where?" she asked. She was used to Bella's habit of starting conversations in the middle of a thought, but sometimes, like now, she needed clarification.

"The clearing." Bella waved a hand at the woods that surrounded the school.

"You mean to one of the parties?" Rosalie asked. When Bella nodded, she said, "Hell, no. Besides you would have known, because I would have dragged you along with me." She shuddered. "No way I'm going back there. Not even for a party."

"I've never been there," Bella told her.

"Yes, you have. We went with Ali when we were little, remember? We rode our bikes out there and our parents got so pissed at us."

Bella shook her head. "It wasn't me. I would have remembered."

"Was it just me and Ali?" Rosalie furrowed her eyebrows and tapped a finger against her lower lip. "That doesn't sound right."

"Whatever," Bella shrugged, "I just know it wasn't me."

"Really?" Rosalie huffed out a deep breath. "Nuts. Now I have to go back."

"Why? Exactly?"

"Because you need to go before we graduate and leave for good."

"Whatever," Bella repeated. "I got to get to class."

"Want to come over tonight? I want to dye my hair." Rosalie shook her heavy pony tail at Bella. Currently, her long hair was shocking shade of red. Bella wasn't sure if Rosalie remembered what her original color was anymore. "Maybe we can go into the woods before."

"Call me," Bella said. "I get done tutoring at four." She slipped into the cafeteria and missed Rosalie's reply.

* * *

"So here's my idea," Bella said as she dropped her bag on the floor and slid into one of the cafeteria's chairs. "I am going to wear something super slutty on the day of the next homecoming committee meeting."

"This is not a good plan," Alice Brandon pointed out helpfully.

"No, no," Bella protested, waving her hands in front of her. "It is. It will work. Look at Lauren and Jessica. They get tons of attention."

"They get tons of attention because they are slutty. Truth in advertising and all that." Alice gestured to Bella. "You," she pointed at her, "are not slutty. You are the opposite of slutty."

Bella blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "This is the second time today that I've basically been called boring."

"You are not boring," Alice said with indignation. "What I said was a good thing. Who wants to be super slutty at seventeen? Even if it is nice alliteration. Who called you boring?"

"Well, you, just now," Bella pointed out, "and Rosalie at the homecoming meeting."

Alice frowned. "Why did she call you boring?"

Bella shrugged. "She didn't actually use that word. Just implied it. Because I was shocked that Lauren and Jessica were hungover on a Friday. And because I'd never been to the witch's place in the woods."

Alice muttered something under her breath that Bella couldn't hear and then said, "And this makes you boring?"

Bella shook her head. "No, what makes me boring is that I am. I've never done anything remotely interesting. I'm dull. That's why Emmett doesn't like me."

Alice put down her pen and shut her notebook. "Him still? Bella, I don't know how to break this to you, but the guy has no brains. He's a pretty face with nothing behind it. You'd be so bored within minutes. You are way too smart for him."

"But he's so cute," Bella whined. "And it's not just me," she defended herself. "Ro thinks he's adorable too."

Alice gave her a look, but didn't say anything.

Bella sighed. "I know," she admitted.

"We need to find you someone else to crush on," Alice said with a nod of her head that suggested finality.

"We could find someone for you," Bella suggested.

"Nice try, but I think that would annoy the boy just a leetle beet." She pinched her two fingers together. "He appreciates the fact that I'm not cheating on him."

"Worth a shot."

"What's worth a shot?" Edward Cullen flopped into a chair next to Bella and stared woefully at his school supplied lunch. He nudged the slice of pizza on his tray with his finger and waited to see if it would nudge back. When it remained in place, he took a large bite.

"Nothing," Bella said. "I was going to set Alice up with someone."

Edward's eyes widened and Alice rushed to explain the joke, hoping he wouldn't take it seriously. Jasper, her boyfriend, was one of Edward's best friends. "Bad joke," she said.

"Yeah, I got that," he swallowed his bite of pizza, "I'm new to the whole sarcasm thing, but I got that."

She smiled sheepishly. "Right. Of course you did."

"So, really, what are we talking about?"

"Nothing," Bella sing-songed. "Nothing at all."

"Yeah, that convinces me. But I'm going to let it go."

Bella sagged against her chair in relief. "Thanks."

"Sure," he shrugged, yanking on her ever-present ponytail. "Besides, it was probably boring."

"It wasn't boring. And gross. You have greasy pizza fingers." Bella pushed him away and he wiggled his fingers in front of her face.

"The better to touch you with, my dear," he leered.

"Stay away," she laughed, holding her textbook up as shield.

Alice eyed them and sighed. "Children, the bell is about to ring."

Bella swatted at Edward's hand again before putting her book away.

*/*/

"What about Edward?" Alice asked as their last period class let out.

"What about Edward?"

"He's cute. Smart. Sarcastic."

"Sarcasm's a quality we want?"

"It is when we're talking about you. Can you imagine how bored you'd get if someone wasn't some what of an ass?"

"Yes, it would be lovely." Bella hitched her bag higher on her shoulder.

"No it wouldn't. It'd be awful."

"Still. Edward?"

"Yes, did you not just hear me list some of his many good qualities?"

"Some of his many… Maybe your sales pitch needs work," Bella suggested.

Alice sniffed. "Seriously, though, just think about it."

Bella shook her head. "He's a friend. And he doesn't like me like that anyway."

"Mebbe, mebbe not. Just think about it. Okay, I'm off. The mom-mobile is picking me for a dentist's appointment. Call me later, 'kay?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "I've got to get to tutoring. Bye!" she called over her shoulder.

* * *

The Hales and the Swans lived in a subdivision that bordered the woods. Geographically, there was no distinction between the woods that surrounded their houses and the woods beyond the development, but anyone who grew up in the area knew where the development ended and the woods began. It was an invisible line that seemed to shout "too far" when crossed. The development, a meandering grouping of houses, was built by a man who did not know, or care to learn, the local history. Encouraged by his success in the one venture, he began elaborate plans to spread the development. His progress was halted, however, by local historians, conservators, and naturalists. The groups joined together and looked for something, anything that would stop the bulldozers that idled at the edge of the woods. They found their answer in a rare flower and even rarer snake, so the development remained isolated at the edge of the woods.

Rosalie was eight when they moved into their house and she remembered throwing fits at the idea of moving into the witch's woods. At first, her parents tried to soothe her, to calm her down, but their patience wore thin and eventually they told her stop crying and to help pack up her toys. Her first summer in the house, Rosalie became convinced that she was seeing things that could not be explained. A light spot in a shadow, a shadow crossing the sunny yard.

Each night, she went to bed braced for the cold feel of the witch's hands on her ankles. When each morning came and it was obvious nothing happened, she relaxed a little and grew a little more daring. So that same summer, when lemon-yellow July faded into the deeper shades of August, she rode her bike onto the trail behind her house and headed straight for the clearing.

She stood at the edge, not quite brave enough to step on it, and nothing happened. She rode home and told Ali Brandon what she had done. Ali, as Rosalie was hoping, demanded that Rosalie bring her to the clearing, so the girls went back. Rosalie dared Alice to stand in the middle of the clearing, and crossed her fingers behind her back as she swore up and down that she had done it and was perfectly fine. Not wanting to look like a chicken, Alice hopped in and almost immediately hopped out again. Rosalie held her breath and waited, but nothing happened. Except for getting grounded later that evening for leaving the house without her parents' permission.

But that night, after her second visit, long after she stopped fearing the witch's grip, she was became convinced that she could hear things. A branch on the chimney, a scrape of wood against the brick in the wind. And even though it was August and the air-conditioner only clicked on at 72 degrees, Rosalie pulled her blankets over head and tucked her pillow around her ears. She did not go back.

* * *

"Bella, Bella, bo bella," Rosalie yelled as she thundered up the steps of her best friend's home. "Are you ready for Little Bella's Big Adventure?" She threw herself on the bed, making Bella's body bounce with the force.

"Just let me finish," Bella murmured as she rushed to finish the paragraph she was reading.

"Nope." Rosalie yanked the book out of Bella's hand. "No time for such nonsense." She slapped a hand on Bella's leg. "Up get."

Knowing that all arguing with her friend would accomplish was waste time, Bella heaved herself into a sitting position. Propping herself up on her hands, she glanced over at Rosalie. "Is there a reason why we're doing this?" she asked as she scooted to the edge of her bed. She fumbled around for her shoes. When she didn't see them at the foot of the bed, she slid of the mattress and began to search under the bed for the sneakers she had been wearing earlier.

"Yes," Rosalie hung over the edge of the bed. Her bright red hair dusted the floor as she maneuvered her body to peer under the bed. She nodded in her upside down position. "We're young and we're stupid. We don't need any better reasons than those."

"Of course," Bella murmured and inched a little more under the bed. Her fingers closed around the heel of one the shoes. She pulled it out with a triumphant, "Aha!" and dove back under the bed in a search for its mate. "What was I thinking?"

Rosalie shrugged and stood up. "No idea." She handed Bella her other shoe, which was over by her closet door, and bounced in place while she waited for her friend to get ready. "All set? Good." She nodded. "Let's go get scared by a piece of ground."

* * *

The leaves crunched under their feet as the girls shuffled through the woods. Late afternoon sunshine washed the trees in a golden bath. Had Bella been in the mood for hiking aimlessly around the woods, she might have liked the sight of the fallen leaves and ochre colored trees. However, since she had been yanked out of her nice, cozy bedroom, she was mostly just grateful that the sunlight was still strong enough to alert her to fallen branches and soggy patches of ground that lay in wait for her. "How much longer?" Bella struggled, and failed, not to whine.

"We're not far," Rosalie told her. She paused and surveyed the woods. "I think it's just a few minutes farther."

"You think? You're not sure?" Bella huffed. She bent at the waist and rubbed an achy calf muscle that had been twinging since her tutoring session when a freshman banged her bag into it. "I feel like we've been walking forever."

"It's not like I've timed it," Rosalie said. She looked back over her shoulder at Bella. "And what kind of an athlete are you?"

"The not kind." Bella stood up and jogged a little to catch up with her friend.

"Buck up, little buckaroo." Rosalie clapped a hand on Bella's shoulder and pushed her forward a bit. Bella stumbled a little from the force of the blow, but righted herself. "We'll be there shortly and then you can stand in the creepy clearing, get spooked, and we can go. You can't grow up here and not do this. It's practically illegal."

"Illegal?" Bella shoved her hair back into a sloppy ponytail and rolled her eyes.

Rosalie waved her arms, brushing aside Bella's comment. "Or irresponsible. And you," she pointed, "are big on responsibility."

Bella pushed a low hanging branch away from her head and ducked under it. "You make me sound like such a nerd."

"You are." Rosalie pounced on Bella's back and hugged her shoulders. "But you're our nerd."

"Great. Pet nerd."

Rosalie unwound her arms from Bella's neck and stood up straight. "Hey! We're here!" she exclaimed. "Behold the graveyard of silo cups."

It was eerie, Bella conceded, the way the plants stopped at the clearing's edges. The trees twisted away from it, their branches were mangled and contorted as they strove to avoid growing over the ground.

"Well?" Rosalie prodded. "Go stand in it so we can go back and eat junk food."

Sighing, Bella waded through the knot of brambles and blueberry bushes that ringed the blank spot. The air shifted as she moved to the border. She hesitated on the edges, one foot hovering over the empty dirt, reluctant to stop onto ground where nothing lived.

She glanced back at Rosalie, who made shooing gestures with her hands. "Seriously, Bella. It's going to be dark soon."

Bella took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped down. Nothing happened. Cautiously, she peeked out of one eye. Everything still looked the same. She turned around. "Start the clock," she told Rosalie.

Rosalie glanced down at her watch and gave Bella the thumbs up signal. "Your five minutes have started."

"Is, um, something supposed to happen?" Bella asked after a minute.

"No," Rosalie answered.

"So why am I doing this?"

"I already told you. It's a rite of passage for Mercy Borough's youth. You need to do this. It's like a Bat Mitzvah."

"So at the end of this I'm a woman?"

"No, at the end of this, you've spent five minutes of your life standing on a barren piece of ground," Rosalie explained patiently.

"Great," Bella mumbled, "so glad I let you talk me into this."

Rosalie nodded enthusiastically. "Aren't you? Two minutes down."

"Why five minutes?" Bella wondered. "Why not six or ten or – why five minutes?"

Rosalie tapped a finger to her chin and squinted at the trees of the far side of the clearing. "I think," she said tentatively. "I think I remember someone saying once that that was how long it took her house to burn."

"The witch's?"

"The very same."

"If she existed," Bella added skeptically, but, ridiculously, she shivered in the late afternoon sunshine.

"Well, yes, there is that," Rosalie conceded. "But you have to admit, it is an odd little spot, isn't it?"

Bella shrugged. "I guess." She paced along the perimeter of the clearing. "I remember reading this article once for a project in earth science," both girls made faces at the mention of that class, "and it talked about these odd geological spots where gravity was all off. Maybe this is the equivalent of those things, but for plants?"

"Maybe," Rosalie grinned. She curled her fingers into claw shapes. "Or maybe it's the witch!" She pounced at the edge of the clearing and grabbing at Bella and shaking her as she landed next to her.

Bella laughed and prized her arm out of Rosalie's grasp. "Nut." She ambled to the farthermost edge of the clearing. "How much time is left?"

"One minute and change. I'm keeping track."

"So, um," Bella began, then stopped. She swung her arms from her front to her back in large, slow arcs as she studied the sky above her.

"So?" Rosalie prompted.

"Emmett looked cute at the meeting – all flustered and disorganized," she pushed the words out in a rush.

"Hmm," Rosalie murmured, but she didn't say anything else.

"Didn't you think so?" Bella prodded. "I mean, he's getting a little better at running the meetings, right? But it's still cute how he can't get anyone to listen right away."

"I guess," Rosalie said. She looked at her watch. "Time's up."

Bella, who had wandered to the near-exact center of the clearing while remembering Emmett's blush, walked slowly to its edges.

"Hurry, Bella," Rosalie waved anxiously, "it's been more than five minutes now."

Bella hopped over a low-lying branch and landed with a soft thump on the other side of the border. "I'm officially able to leave Mercy now," she announced to Rosalie and the forest at large.

"After high school and graduation," Rosalie amended.

"After that," Bella agreed, "there's nothing holding me back." She spread her arms and lunged forward into the woods. The girls giggled and hurried in the direction of their houses. Neither of them noticed, as they jogged out of the woods, that the ground had rumbled in disagreement.

It was quiet now and dark. The sound of time passing by her no longer sounded like wind through the trees. It was almost enough. So very close to being enough. The ground rose and fell just a little, as the clearing took its first breath in years.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own them. I own the town and the witch.

AN: Ohmigosh. Thank you heaps and tons to those who reviewed, those who followed and those who favorited. An extra special thanks to SunflowerFran because she caught a mistake that I kept missing.

1731

The first time he talked to her, it was on a Saturday at the farmer's market. Her wagon rumbled in, one of a long line of farmers and trades people who hawked their goods on the square for the townspeople. Along with her mother, she sold herbs and simples. Although the town had yet to say anything, there was an air suspicion in the way the mother and daughter were regarded. Widows and children were meant to live with relatives, not strike out on their own. The oddity of them, combined with Rachel's loveliness, gave the residents of Mercy Borough pause.

He waited two months before he approached their stall in the market. The fall harvest was in and the market would soon close for the winter months, which meant that the women would only come into town for Church, and then, not even that if the roads were not passable. He needed to talk to her. The urge pulsed in his veins and throbbed in his ears, making him deaf to the world around him.

His excuse came on a day when his mother's kitchen ran out of lavender for soap. The servants were busy righting the house and could not be made to go to the market. Although the chore should have been beneath him, he volunteered to go in their stead.

His mother, bemused by her son, dropped some coins into his hand and sent him off, certain that he was using the errand as an excuse to see Elizabeth, the daughter of one of the town's most prominent families. Before Rachel's arrival, she should have been right. But now, now there was Rachel and her sunny yellow hair and pale white skin. Now there was Rachel and there was no one else.

She was standing in her mother's stall, arranging sachets of dried herbs when he walked up to her. A shawl was wrapped around her shoulders and tucked into her apron to keep her hands free. The blond hair that reminded him of sunshine and summer was tucked under a mob cap. He stared at her, wondering what drew him to her. Certainly, if there was something amiss, it was not her appearance.

She smiled cautiously at him, a smile reserved for a stranger and it made his heart hurt. "Good morning, sir," she bobbed a curtsy and he wished to remain there for ever.

* * *

Bella dropped her backpack on a kitchen chair and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Hi, mom," she shouted from the kitchen. "I'm going to Rosalie's later, kay?" She pushed the milk out of the way and shut the refrigerator door with a thump. There was nothing in it that she considered edible, so she moved onto to the pantry.

Her mother's footsteps fell on the stairs and she turned to see Renee Swan walking down them with a laundry basket tucked under one arm. "How many times?" she asked her daughter as she reached out to pull Bella close. She pressed a kiss on her daughter's forehead and tugged playfully at her ponytail.

"How many times what?" Bella asked as she stuffed a pretzel into her mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Renee said automatically. "And how many times have I told you not to shout in the house?"

Bella shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Give it up, ma," she suggested. "The lesson ain't sticking."

"I refuse," Renee stated. "One day, I'm going to have a nice mannerly young lady for a daughter instead of a hooligan."

"Hooligan? Who says hooligan?" Bella questioned.

"I do. Now, why were you shouting?"

"I'm going to Rosalie's for a bit."

"Homework all done?"

"Mo-om," Bella stretched the word into two syllables. "It's a Friday. I have eons of time."

Renee sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Go. Be back before dinner."

Bella smacked a kiss on her mother's cheek. "Kay, love you, bye!" she shouted as she ran out the door.

"Don't slam the door!" were the last words she heard before she slammed the door behind her.

Bella checked her cell phone again as she walked down the street to Rosalie's house. She hadn't heard from her Rosalie at all that afternoon, an unusual thing for the two. Rosalie sent text messages all afternoon long on the days she had to babysit her younger brother.

The girls had lived on the same block for several years and Bella couldn't remember the last time she knocked on the Hales' front door. She let herself into the house and headed in the direction of Rosalie's bedroom. "Ro-ro," she called as she reached for the doorknob. "Ring around the Rosie," she sing-songed and pushed the door open.

Emmett fell off Rosalie's bed with an audible crash and Rosalie scrambled to pull her t-shirt on.

"Oh." Bella's suddenly cold fingers slipped off the doorknob. "Sorry."

"Bella! Hi!" Rosalie chirped as she combed her fingers through her hair.

"Hey, Bella," Emmett mumbled.

Bella hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm just going to," she turned around, "go. Bye."

"Bella, wait," Rosalie called after her. Bella heard Rosalie's footsteps chase down the steps. "Wait up."

Bella shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't think so." She pulled the door shut behind her and ran into the woods.

*/\\*/\\*

Bella ran through the brambles and the blueberry bushes. Thorns snagged on her jeans and she tripped, falling into a pile of decaying leaves. She pushed herself up and brushed off her jeans and continued, not stopping until she reached the edge of the clearing. When she reached the spot where nothing grew, she stopped and choked on the tears that clogged her throat.

Sinking to her knees, she bowed down and gave into the tears. It wasn't that she thought she was in love with Emmett. It was that Rosalie never told her. In the woods, all by herself, she could admit that she was jealous, too. She was jealous because Rosalie now had a boyfriend and the boyfriend was Emmett, someone she had wanted for three years. And she was jealous of Emmett, because Rosalie was going to start spending all of her time with him.

Bella shifted until she was sitting cross-legged on the forest floor. It was cold and damp against the seat of her jeans but she didn't care. She rested her elbows on her lap and cried into her hands.

The wind picked up and played with ends of her hair. It reminded Bella of the way her sister played with Bella's hair, little flicks of fingers lifting the strands. Bella pulled an elastic band out her jeans' pocket and scooped the hair into a ponytail.

So sad, a sibilant whisper hissed against her ear.

Bella's head whipped up and the tears stopped. "What?" She stood up and scanned the area around the clearing. "Is someone out there?" She wanted to run, but her feet felt bound to the dirt. Her heart hammered in chest and she placed a hand over it, pressing down to keep it in place. There was no one there. The vegetation was sparse near the clearing and the trees were skinny sticks that were underexposed to sunlight. The woods were empty.

The wind danced around her, swirling the leaves at her feet and batting at her ponytail. Pretty girl, it whispered. I can help, it promised.

Bella trembled as the wind slid down her cheek in a chilly caress. "No," she said, her voice was tinder-dry and shaky. Bella shook her head and blinked. She was talking to the air. She needed sleep, she told herself. Cautiously, placing one foot slowly behind her, she tried to turn. Her leg shook as she pivoted and braced herself for the run.

Don't go, the wind pleaded. Don't leave me, I've waited so long.

"No." Bella told herself to run, but her legs wouldn't listen.

Stay, the wind sighed. I know, it sympathized. I saw, it said.

Tears tracked slowly down her cheeks and she sucked in a gulp of air. It's not real, she told herself. Run, she ordered her legs. She tugged her coat sleeves over hands and punched her thigh. Move, she tried to tell herself.

The wind gentled to a breeze that eddied around her ankles. Bella quivered as it found the spaces between her clothes. Run, she pleaded. The wind slipped over her shoulder and batted at the leaves over her head. Please move, she begged. The wind edged back a little and Bella's legs finally obeyed her voiceless commands. She sprinted out of the clearing and ran straight, not caring where she would emerge. The same brambles and thorns that snagged and tripped her on the way in marred her path now but she barely noticed as she raced for the road.

When she reached it, a car sped past her, and she startled at the noise. She bent over knees, panting hard. "It was the wind," she whispered. Her lungs ached and her face was cold and itchy from the wind and the run. "It was the wind," she repeated, but she didn't believe it.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I owe great big huge thank yous to all of you who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed. I swear, one of these days I will catch up on review replies. I'm posting this instead of In the Pines because this one was beta'd (AND I HAVE A BETA AND SHE"S AWESOME! Thank you, Vampshavelaws!) The next part of In the Pines will be sent to her shortly. Also, I entered the Meet the Mate contest. There are some seriously wonderful stories there. Go read!

3.

"Edward is staring at you," Alice said under her breath to Bella. "Don't look," she hissed, when Bella started to turn her head.

"I'm sure you're just imagining things," Bella answered.

"No," Alice whispered across the library table, "he's really staring."

Bella smacked a hand against the back of her head. "Oh. God. I don't have anything in my hair, do I? Or on my shirt?"

"I have no idea," Alice said.

"Check." Bella turned in her seat and braced her hands against the back of the chair. "Do I?" she asked over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Edward. He was frowning at the pile of papers on the desk. She turned back around. "He wasn't looking."

Alice huffed and rolled her eyes at Bella. "Of course he's not. _Now_ ," she said. "But he was."

"Maybe I have gum in my hair."

"I just checked, remember? You don't have gum in your hair."

"Then why was Edward Cullen staring at me?"

Alice twirled her curly hair into a bun and jammed a pencil into the mess to hold it in place. "Maybe he thinks you're cute." She didn't roll her eyes, but it was implied in her voice.

"Maybe you're trying to distract me," Bella countered.

"From what?" Alice asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Bella raised her eyebrows. "From the fact that Rosalie and Emmett are dating and no one told me?" Bella fiddled with the pen in her hand, tapping it on the edge of her notebook.

"No," Alice insisted, "he really was staring."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bella didn't want to be distracted. She wanted answers, and since she wasn't in the mood to talk to Rosalie, she needed Alice to give them to her.

"Because it wasn't my thing to tell." Alice shifted in her chair. "And I knew it would upset you."

Bella bit her lip and nodded. "But finding out that way…"

"Look." Alice leaned forward and braced her arms on the tabletop. "Are you really upset because she's dating Emmett or are you upset by how you found out?"

"The second," she answered promptly, then pinching her forefinger and thumb together, she held them up and said, "and maybe a little bit of the first."

"Were you going to date him?"

"No," Bella admitted grudgingly.

"So then why do you care? You're the bigger person in this one, Bella. And Edward's looking at you again. Don't look," she ordered again. She grabbed Bella's hand to prevent her from turning around.

"Seriously. Why would he be staring? We've gone to school together for the last four years and suddenly now he stares?"

Alice shrugged. "Maybe you've just never noticed until now."

"I still haven't noticed." Bella looked pointedly at Alice's hand on her wrist. "You won't let me."

Alice giggled. "True. Hey, if he asked you out, would you say yes?"

Bella groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Are you going to pass him a note in gym?" Bella mumbled in her palms, "And, yes."

"No." Alice winked at her. "I prefer to be more direct." Catching Edward's eye, she pointed at Bella and gave him a thumbs up.

"I would like to go die now, please," Bella whispered.

Alice ignored her. "He waved. He likes you. You're welcome."

...

"Whoa there, what did that notebook ever do to you?"  
Bella looked up from her locker, where she was more or less pounding her French notebook into a non-existent space, to see Edward lounging against the locker bank. "It offends me simply by being," she joked, and continued her attempt to defy the laws of physics.

Edward snorted. "Having a rough day there, Bella-Bella?"

Bella blinked and nodded. "It's not going according to plan," she admitted.

"Are you and Rosalie fighting or something?" At her raised eyebrows, he shrugged and said, "Hey, I notice things. Some things," he amended.

"Some things?" she questioned, then waved a hand in front of her face, brushing off the question before he could tell her what he noticed. "Never mind," she said and gave up on her notebook. She shoved the notebook on to a shelf that guaranteed she would forget it later when she needed it. "I don't know," she answered his earlier question. "I mean, yes. We are, but I don't know how serious it is, if it's a deal-breaker or not."

Edward leaned over and picked up her backpack from the floor. He draped an arm over her shoulder and said, "Come on. I'll walk you to class and you can tell Uncle Edward all about it." He tugged at her elbow. "We're going to be late."

She nodded. "I know."

Edward groaned and dragged his hand down his face. Today was clearly not the day he could make his move. "You okay?"

She sighed and said, "Yeah, I think so. It wasn't so much about the content of the argument as it was the context."

He pointed at her. "That," he cried, "is why you female types are so hard to understand. What the hell does that mean?"

She shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it right. I guess it means that it's not so much the facts behind the fight as the fact she kept things from me. And I basically look like a jackass because of that."

"Pride."

"Yes," she agreed, then shook her head. "Not completely. A little bit." She pinched her fingers close together. "But I'm also kinda hurt she didn't tell me some stuff I really needed to know."

Frowning, he nodded a little. "I don't think I'm going to understand this in one walk to class."

"S'okay," she said. "I don't really understand it, either."

Edward gave up trying to figure out what had happened between the friends and grabbed Bella's ponytail to pull her down the hall. "Let's go. I can't afford to get another stink eye from Mrs. Peete."

"She loves you."

"Yes. Which is why I get the stink eye and not detention when I'm late. But I think she's catching on to me." He dropped her bag into her arms and pushed her towards her classroom door. "I'll be here after class so we can continue to talk vaguely."

Bella nodded. "I'll be here without any explanations to give you." She waved at him and ducked into her room right before the bell rang.

Edward groaned as the sound echoed through the near-deserted hallways. Late again and no closer to asking her out.

...

The days slipped by quietly, and Bella still hadn't talked to Rosalie. It felt odd to see the other girl in the hallways and not call out to her. A cold sensation would shoot through her stomach and spread like pins and needles when she glimpsed the redhead bouncing through the corridors. As for Rosalie, she had perfected the art of staring through Bella like she was a ghost or a perfect stranger. No flicker of regret or even recognition. Bella began to wonder, after so many of the empty looks, if the years of friendship felt differently to Rosalie. Like their weight was oppressive and not something missing.

Ever the mediator, Alice kept telling her to be patient; Rosalie was embarrassed and didn't know how to approach her. Bella had her doubts, but appreciated Alice's diplomacy.

So each day that she slogged through the hallways or slouched at her desk, she pretended she didn't see Rosalie draped over Emmett's shoulder or hear her (really obnoxious) laugh. She also ignored the vicious little giggles from Jessica and Lauren, who watched Rosalie and Bella ignore each other like they were watching a reality TV show.

And through it all, she wondered what had happened in the clearing. She ticked off the reasons why she could not have heard what she thought she heard: Ghosts didn't exist. She hadn't heard the voice since that day. She was rather nuts when the day she thought she heard something. The witch was a myth. No one else ever mentioned hearing anything at the clearing. When she went there the first time, nothing happened. (Unless she counted standing there too long. Which she didn't.) And yet, despite the fact that all of the reasons were good reasons, she didn't believe them. Under the warm September sun flooding the cafeteria courtyard, she shivered.

"How can you be cold?" Edward asked, noticing her shiver. "It's eighty degrees out here." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the building. "It's one-hundred and eighty in there. There's no place that's cold around here."

"It wasn't that kind of a shiver," she explained. She picked up her apple and examined it for bruises. "More like a goose walked on my grave kind of a shiver."

Edward plucked the apple out of her hand and ignored her indignant squawk. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. Ducking his head a little to make eye contact, he said, "Bella-Bella, we've been friends a long time, so please don't be offended when I say: you've got to stop reading those old-timey books. No one says stuff like that."

She smiled and looped her arms over his. "But you know what I mean, right?"

"Yes. But you're still weird for saying it."

"What did Bella do now?" Alice dropped her bag to the ground with a loud bang. Rolling her shoulders to ease the tension in them, she slipped on to one of the benches.

"Nothing," Bella mumbled, unhooking her arms.

"Talking weird," Edward said at the same time. He let go of Bella's shoulders and began attacking his lunch tray. The girls grimaced as oil dripped from the slice of pizza on his plate. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of food.

"Nothing," the girls chorused and turned towards their own lunches.

"You," he pointed at Alice, "and you," he pointed to Bella, "are being weird."

"Adjective of the day," Bella mumbled.

"It's not me," Alice defended herself. "You two were acting weird when I got here." Her eyes widened and she looked between the two of them. "You know what? I gotta go. I have things and I left a book." Just as quickly as she arrived, she was gone.

"If she were a cartoon, there'd be a vapor trail behind her," Edward commented.

Bella nodded. "She's subtle, don't you think? Like a sledgehammer or a lead weight?"

"Keeping with the cartoon thing, like an Acme anvil." Edward cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Listen, while you're here. I wanted to ask you. Do you want to go to the movies this weekend?"

She blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Okay. That sounds fun." She picked up her apple again. "Wait, like a date or like friends?"

"Like a date."

"Then, yes." She smiled and he grinned back at her. A breeze stirred the courtyard. Her smile slipped a little at the edges as she thought she heard the breeze sigh, "No."

1731

Rachel smiled to herself as she wrapped a piece of twine around the bundle of lavender, twisting the string so that the single strand of hair would not be visible. The young man interested her. He would be interesting to have around for a while. She hummed under her breath as she looped another piece of hair around the string.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not mine

A/N: I'm early! It's my birthday week so I'm going to be out and about pretending I'm not over the hill. Thanks so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows. Huge thank yous to my awesome beta, Vampshavelaws, for making this all pretty and correct. I'm most likely going to be posting the next part of In the Pines sometime this week. (Oh, and if anyone wants to get me Sam Heughan for my birthday, I'd really, really appreciate it. Thanks!)

4.

It came about gradually: the way the men shook off the fervor that had gripped them, leaving room for shame to settle over them. They grew silent. Their eyes turned inward, and, when the regret grew too heavy a mantle to bear, they simply forgot. And what intentional forgetting could not do, time could. The girl with the sunshine-yellow hair became a legend, a ghost story told in the woods at night. Sun and wind, snow and rain, slowly erased the ashes and burnt timbers from the landscape. Time crept between the spaces in the logs and stone and worked quietly until the clearing where the cabin once stood was a local oddity – a spot where nothing grew. But not everyone forgot. Something waited. Its hot temper worn to a bitter patience, buffeted by the winds and sand until it was sharp. And lethal.

* * *

It was the moon, she decided. Bella blamed the nearly full moon that had just appeared on the horizon, despite the early hour, for the fact that she was thinking about ghosties and goblins and witches when she should have been getting ready for her date. Maybe if she concentrated, she would stop burning herself with her curling iron.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited. She was. But the odd little whispers in the wind and the trees were taking their toll. She thought she heard them again at lunch. And then later, when she was boarding the bus to go home. (A humiliating experience as a senior.)

Or maybe it was the change in weather. The Indian Summer weather had departed abruptly on the back of a particularly strong wind, leaving the residents of Mercy Borough scrambling for sweaters and jeans. Instead of being happy about the onset of more seasonal weather, the residents were baffled by its suddenness. It was hunting season weather weeks too early. So maybe that's why Bella was thinking of the witch. Because she felt like she was being stalked by a breeze. She burned herself again with that stupid thought and decided she was not meant to have curly hair.

Sliding a hand over her hair, she stood up to review her outfit. Cute skirt? _Check_. Cute sweater? A necessity, and _check_. She added a pair of hoop earrings and slipped on a pair of ballet flats and considered her outfit a success. She nodded at her reflection and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Tonight, she told herself, she would ignore the fact there was a disembodied voice following her around the town.

* * *

Bella sighed and shifted in the seat. The whole evening had been awkward – the dinner and its stilted conversation, the movie, and now the car ride – and she couldn't wait for it to end. Her breath fogged on the window and her fingers twitched with the desire to draw a smiley face in the cloud. She didn't think Edward's mother would appreciate the artwork, though, so she kept her hands clasped in her lap.

At her sigh, Edward turned up the radio and pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal. Yes, Bella thought, that summed up the whole evening nicely. She glanced at the clock and wondered if this was the first time she'd been grateful for an early curfew. Even with the ridiculously early curfew, she was still getting home well before her parents would expect her.

She turned her attention back to the window and stared at the same cornfields she had seen almost every day of her life as if they were something new and interesting. They were dormant now, and the combines had been hard at work reducing them to stubble. Broken cornstalks littered the fields and laid the ground bare. On nights like this one, with the nearly full moon casting wide, silvery shadows on the ground, Bella thought it was easy to see why people used to leave candles burning to guide the dead through the night. She shivered against the thought and pulled her jacket tighter around her body. Edward saw the movement and asked, "Cold?" as he reached for the heat.

"A little," she said, not wanting to explain that she had given herself a scare.

He didn't respond and the car fell silent again except for the DJ's patter. Bella shifted her attention back to the window and frowned. A thin band of mist hovered at the edges of the fields. The mist wasn't unusual, but it was unusual to see it forming so close to the trees. And it was strange to see it on a cold, clear night in the fall.

She wouldn't say anything, she told herself. She was still spooked from thinking about ghosts earlier. It was an atmospheric condition and nothing else. But she watched as it grew thicker and fanned out over the cornstalks and hovered over the irrigation ditches. She pressed her lips together and curled her fingers into her palms. The mist danced along the long-gone rows of corn; it ghosted over the remnants of old fences and weaved in and out of the few trees that dotted the fields.

"Edward," she patted his elbow to get his attention, "drive faster."

He frowned at her. "I'm already going ten over the speed limit. You know the cops around here are just waiting to give speeders a ticket."

"Look," She pointed to the fog that was wrapping itself around a farmhouse.

He followed her finger. "So, it's foggy."

Bella's fingers curled around his coat sleeve. "I can't explain it. I just know that you need to drive faster. You have to get home before it."

Edward mumbled under his breath, and, although she couldn't hear him, Bella was sure it wasn't flattering. Humor the crazy girl, she pleaded silently. "Please," she said aloud.

"Fine," he agreed, "but if I get a ticket and my parents kill me, you're the first one I'm haunting." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "And I plan on being really annoying."

"Fair enough, but you're not going to get pulled over," she murmured.

"Psychic now?"

She shook her head and told herself to be embarrassed tomorrow. "No, I just know." She wrapped her arms around her chest and rubbed her hands over her upper arms. The far fields were completely blanketed by the mist now, and she nearly cried in relief when the car turned into her development.

"I'll walk you to your door," Edward told her as he pulled into her driveway. Bella fumbled with her seatbelt. It was undone and her fingers were tugging at the lock before the car had come to a complete stop.

"No," she said, "go home. Go straight home and don't stop." Before she could stop herself, she leaned over and brushed her lips over his cheekbone. Be embarrassed tomorrow, she said again. "Please, just trust me. Go home and don't open your doors or windows." She hopped out of the car and shouted over her shoulder. "Thanks for the movie, and text me when you get home!" She lunged for her front door and fell back against it when she was safely inside and the night was outside.

Locking the door behind her, she turned off the lights her parents had left on and bolted up the steps. She tapped gently on her parents' bedroom door then got ready for bed. Slipping quietly inside her room, she climbed into bed and pulled the comforter over her head.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think of the mist in the fields.

* * *

The mist had reached the roads and was edging closer to the town and its developments. It circled houses and swirled at the locks. The things in the mist rattled on the windows and tapped at the walls. It searched and searched for the person caught unaware; the one not tucked away in their home. It crept over leaves and lapped at the foundations. Searching, always searching, it spread through the quiet little town and waited.

Edward glanced in the rear-view mirror and frowned a little at the fog. It was getting thicker, but he failed to understand why it had made Bella so upset. He wondered if there was a specific phobia for weather-related paranoia. Maybe he could suggest, tactfully, that Bella talk to someone about her reaction to the fog. It just wasn't normal.

The fog crept in front of his car and Edward flicked his high beams on, but they were useless in the mist. The lights bounced off the bank of clouds and made it seem like a solid wall of white. He turned them off and squinted, slowing down a little so that he stayed on the road.

He sat up straighter and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. His fingers were tense and he flexed them a little, ordering himself to relax. Bella had him wound up with her stupid paranoia. Still, he turned the radio down and focused on the road.

The fog was dense now. It mimicked the surface of the road, dipping where it dipped, hovering over patches and slinking into potholes. It skittered across the hood of his car and swirled over the windshield. He pushed the lever for the windshield wipers and watched as the fog seemed to dance away from the blades, staying just out of their arc.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes; he must have been more tired than he thought. Because that was the only reason he could think of to explain why it looked like the mist was playing with the windshield wipers. It reminded him of when he was a little boy and would stand at the edge of the ocean only to run when the waves rushed in. The fog ebbed and flowed in sync with the wiper blades. A flick of the blade and it pulled away, only to swirl on the other side of the windshield. It covered the surface of the road now, and he almost missed the run that would take him home. There were patches, little places, where the mist had yet to settle and he aimed for those clear spaces.

He rolled his shoulders back and swallowed against the cold that had settled in his stomach. He was only a few heartbeats from his house and he could see the lanterns on the driveway glowing in the fog. He was only a few feet away from having the whole night behind him; he grew impatient and pushed the gas pedal a little harder. The garage door opened and he negotiated the car into the spot. Humoring Bella's demands, he waited until the door had fully closed before he stepped out of the car. It was probably just the strain of the evening catching up to him, but he was almost sure that he heard the fog rasping against the garage door. He paused, listening to the scratching sounds on the other side of the door, and then hurried into his house. He didn't know what it was, but he knew one thing was certain: he needed to talk to Bella.

* * *

As the years passed and the little farming community grew, developments crept closer to the clearing. The woods, once deep and thick, were dotted with houses and crossed by roads, both paved and unpaved. As the houses crept closer and the years spread farther apart, the descendants of the men who stood in the clearing grew bolder. Those families still lived in the town – solid, dignified families with streets and schools named after their ancestors. That night, the night the fog crept out of the gullies and over the fields, as they lay snug in their beds, neglectful of their pasts, they passed the scream off as a rabbit caught in the jaws of a predator. The death cry of the rabbit as it was swooped up by the owl startled them, made their hearts race, but it did not propel them out of bed.

It was a rabbit. Only this one had a class ranking and wanted to go to Brown University next fall. Its forefather was one of those men who did not think of future generations when they burned the little house. They thought only of the moment and the next day; their lives were too hard to think of people who would not be born for 300 years. Hide, little rabbits. The owls are out.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: As always, the grammar is made pretty and comprehensible by Vampshavelaws. I owe her a whole bunch! I still owe review replies for the last chapter. Please know, that even when I get around to thanking you all individually in a timely manner, I am so beyond thrilled every time I get a review. The happy dance is not pretty, but it's a happy dance. I'm hoping to post one more chapter of In the Pines this week, but then I'm going radio silent until after Labor Day here in the States. Off to find adventures!

5.

Leaning against the corner of the cafeteria, Edward surveyed the parking lot. He had arrived at school early to make sure he had plenty of time to speak with Bella before classes began. Busloads of students had arrived and shuffled past him, but there was still no sign of her or her friends.

The school seemed curiously still, although the building was filling rapidly. He couldn't hear any of the usual Monday morning catch-up sessions that normally buzzed around him. After a normal weekend, one that didn't involve unsettling weather and not-quite-good dates, Edward would have chalked the silence up to a general lack of enthusiasm for school. But after this weekend, he wondered if there was something else contributing to the unusual mood.

She didn't answer her phone on Sunday. He even left text messages that went unanswered. If he'd been positive that the weekend had been normal, he'd figure that she was blowing him off and didn't have the guts to tell him. But she'd been so strange on Saturday, that he wondered if something else had happened. He'd spent Sunday, in between football games and a video game marathon with his brother, being vaguely irritated with her, and Sunday night being flat out annoyed. He'd calmed down over night, but his temper was flaring again as he waited for her to appear. Rationally, he knew he was being slightly irrational about her non-appearance, since she rode the bus to school, but he ignored the rational side of his head.

A new bus rumbled into the parking lot and Edward saw Bella's dark hair in one of its windows. He pushed away from the building and stepped onto the sidewalk, positioning himself so he would be directly in her path.

Her shoulders were hunched under the weight of her backpack and she kept her eyes firmly on the ground. Her friends, Rosalie and Alice, hovered behind her, whispering into each other's ears, but they didn't talk to her and she didn't give any signal that she knew they or he was near.

She was about to walk by him when he snagged her elbow. She looked up at him in shock, her eyes wide and her mouth partially open. She yanked at her arm, trying to free it from his grasp. He ignored her and tightened his hold on her arm. "I need to talk to you," he said, steering her to an empty corner of the cafeteria.

She pushed her hair off her eyes. "Can it wait? I need to get to my locker and then I need to study for a World Civ quiz." She jerked her elbow. "And will you let go?"

"No."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow.

"No," he repeated, then clarified, "no, I'm not letting you go and, no, it can't wait." He sat down at a table and tugged on her arm until she gave in and flopped into a chair.

"Fine," she sighed, "what do you want?"

"First, and I don't know how to ask this without sounding like a pansy or a whiny girl."

He grinned as she slapped his arm and shouted, "Hey."

"Why didn't you answer my calls?"

She frowned. "You called?"

He nodded and held up two fingers. "Twice. And texted. Twice."

"Geez, Edward," she smiled to let him know she was teasing, "desperate much?" She pulled her phone out of her bag and flipped it open. "Oh, look. You did call. I'm sorry. I left my phone in my purse yesterday. I must not have heard it."

"Isn't that against teenage girl law?"

"Shut up," she told him, smiling. "Okay, so you called and I was rude. I repeat: What do you want?"

"Maybe I just wanted to say I had a nice time," he suggested.

"Are you sure I'm the girl?" she asked.

He smirked at her. "Yes. And don't think I won't get you back for that remark. Later." He cast a glance around the cafeteria. Satisfied that no one was in immediate hearing range, he scooted his chair closer to hers and lowered his voice. "What was up with that?"

Bella shook her head. "What was up with what?" she asked as if she couldn't understand the question, but her face lost its color and she stared fixedly at the tabletop.

"The fog," he pressed.

Bella shivered and pulled the cuffs of her sweater over her fingers. She shrugged. "I don't know."

He leaned forward. "You're lying."

She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and chewed on it. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he insisted. "Stop it."

Staring through the window next to her, she mumbled, "You won't believe me and I'm not going to tell you."

"Try me," he coaxed.

"I…," she began. "It's…"

"Just spit it out." He ran his hands through his hair and leaned on the table.

She bit her lip harder and chanced a glance at him. "I think it's the witch," she blurted out.

"The what?" He flopped back against his chair and stared at her. "What witch?"

"The one in the woods. The one buried in the clearing." She picked at the nail polish on a fingernail and studied it as if it were fascinating. Her jaw trembled a little and she clenched her teeth together.

He didn't know how to answer her. He knew that the fog was a little strange, but her answer was stranger. "Bella, don't you think that's a little…," He trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

"Nuts?" she supplied and stood up. "Yes. And that's why I didn't say anything."

He stood, too, and scooped his backpack off the floor. "No, it's just you've been kind of stressed with college and maybe it's getting to you."

Her fingers curled into her palms and she blinked rapidly. "See?" she asked, her voice high and reedy. "I told you and you think I'm nuts."

"Bella," he said calmly, "even if she was real, she's been dead for three hundred years."

She inhaled sharply and let the breath out slowly. "I have to get to class."

He reached out, but she shook his arm off and said, "I've got to go study."

"That did not go well," he said to the empty space where she was no longer standing.

Bella tipped her head back to enjoy the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine on her face. Her ponytail swished over her back and made her shiver as it brushed over the column of her spine. The early-morning clouds had burned off and it was possible to forget, here, in the quiet of the courtyard, the pre-homeroom fight with Edward, the awkward date, and the sinister fog that had ended it in a rush of fear.

The courtyard was quieter than the cafeteria that surrounded it, and emptier, too. Bella had sought out the first quality, the second was a bonus on an otherwise not-so-good day. She told herself that she wasn't hiding – even though she was – hiding from Rosalie and Emmett, and now Edward, too.

"There you are." But apparently she couldn't hide from Alice. Alice dropped her lunch bag onto the table and let her backpack fall to the ground with a heavy thud. She eased onto the bench across from Bella and leaned across the table to yank Bella's ponytail. "Turn around and talk to me," she demanded. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Bella sighed, but complied, swinging her legs around until they were tucked under the table. "What's up?" she asked as she freed her now semi-squished lunch from the confines of her bag.

"I was looking for you in there." Alice hooked a thumb in the direction of the cafeteria's doors. "Why are you out here by yourself?"

Bella lifted a shoulder and let it drop in a half-hearted shrug. "Needed the quiet," she said. "I didn't feel like being cheerful."

"Rosalie wants to know when you're going to start talking to her." Alice bit into her sandwich. "I mean, now that you've got Edward it shouldn't matter so much."

"But that's the thing," Bella cried. "I don't think I do."

"You went out with him on Saturday." It was not a question.

"Yes." Bella nodded over her flattened sandwich. "But, oh, God, Alice, it was so awkward." She picked at the bread crust, peeling it in long strips and dropping it next to the sandwich.

"Awkward how?" Alice raised an eyebrow. "Explain, please."

"It was like I could barely get out three words at a time and all of them were stupid anyway and he was all weird. Or I was. But it was so weird. We weren't like ourselves at all." Bella abandoned her sandwich and buried her face in her hands. "And then it got all foggy and I freaked. And I kissed him, but it was only the cheek so I don't think it counts. And…"

"Whoa," Alice interrupted. "One thing at a time. You kissed him?"

"But only on the cheek," Bella repeated. "So it doesn't count."

"Well, no," Alice conceded. "But it's slightly better than a handshake."

"Only slightly. Anyway, it doesn't even matter because we kind of got into a fight- or at least he thinks I'm insane and he won't want to talk to me anymore."

"You got into a fight? You've only been on one date, Bella." Alice's voice rose to an actual shriek.

"Ssh," Bella lifted her head from her hands and frowned at her friend, "keep your voice down."

"Sorry," she lowered voice. "How did that happen?"

"It's a long, long story," Bella told her and her frowned deepened. "And I think I might be crazy."

"You have totally lost me," Alice said. She slipped her headband off her head and let her dark curls tumble forward as she massaged her temples. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Bella waved a hand and bit her top lip, reluctant to tell her friend about the fog. And the witch. And how she thought the witch was responsible for the fog. "Nothing. Never mind."

Alice peered at her friend. "No, it's not nothing. It's definitely something. Tell me what's bothering you."

"I can't explain it. I thought I could- or sort of could but then I mentioned it to Edward and he was all, 'Bella, you're stressed about school,' and, yes, I am, but I'm not that stressed, so now I don't want to say anything because you'll think I'm losing it, too."

Alice drew an "X" over her chest. "Cross my heart, I won't."

Bella scrubbed the sleeve of her sweater over her face. "You will, so I'm not going to say."

Alice leaned closer and dropped her voice to a near whisper. "Does it have anything to do with Emmett and Rosalie?"

"No," Bella shook her head. "Not at all," she averred. But then she thought back to the first day she heard the voice in the clearing and said, "Well, kind of, but only indirectly. Like, I only started noticing, really noticing things, after I walked in on them."

"Noticing things? Like what?"

Bella turned her apple over in her hand. "Odd stuff, little stuff." She shook her head again, clearing the thoughts from her mind. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh, for the love of – just tell me." Alice raised her hand over her head and clenched it in a fist. "Don't make me beat it out of you. Because I will. You know I will." She circled her fist in the air and narrowed her eyes at Bella.

Bella started giggling at the idea of Alice, the girl who wore pleated skirts and ballet flats and headbands, trying to punch Bella.

"I'm not kidding," Alice stated, not lowering her arm, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

"I know," Bella said around giggles. "That's what makes it so funny."

"There you are." Edward's voice rang across the courtyard and Bella's giggles stopped as she froze in her seat. "Why are you sitting out here?"

"Later," Alice mouthed as she lowered her arm, and Bella nodded. "Hey, Edward."

"Alice." Edward nodded in her direction and turned to Bella. "I was looking for you in there. We didn't finish talking this morning."

"It's almost like déjà vu," Bella remarked to Alice.

"What?" Edward asked for Alice. He sat down on the bench next to Bella and leaned back until his elbows rested on the table.

"We," Bella waved her hand between Alice and herself, "just had this conversation."

"I missed it," Edward said. "Because I was looking for you in there," he added pointedly. "Fill me in. What's my next line?"

Bella huffed and slapped his hand away from her bag of pretzels. She opened her mouth to answer him, but the crackling loudspeaker filled the space of her answer. "This is Principal Katowski," the voice announced, and the courtyard let out a collective groan, "It is my duty and sorrow to announce to you that one of your classmates, Joshua Cooper, has died. In the coming hours, your teachers will have more information for you. A grief counselor will be in the office and your guidance counselor's door is always open. Joshua Cooper was a friend, a brother, and a son. Our thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends at this hour."

Bella felt a wave of cold break over her and she trembled with its force. She looked up at Alice, who was staring back at her. Edward sat up straight and stared at the girls. Oh, God, Bella wondered. Was it the fog?


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: They continue to be not mine...

A/N: Thank you oodles and oodles to the readers, the reviewers, the favoriters (just made that word up. There, that's mine), and followers. Oodles and oodles and oodles of thanks to Vampshavelaws for betaing this when she's under the weather. Feel better quickly!

6.

Bella stuffed her notebook into her already crammed bag and slammed her locker door shut. The tinny sound echoed in the near-empty hallway and made Bella wince at the noise. Digging her cell phone out of her bag, which she had forgotten to leave in her locker – again - she checked the time and estimated that she had approximately three minutes before the hallways filled with students and approximately four minutes before Edward, and his questions, found her.

She tried not to feel guilty about avoiding him, but as much as she knew she owed him an explanation - and quite possibly an apology for being so weird - she didn't want to see his face when she repeated her suspicions. Because, really, she hadn't come up with a logical reason for why the fog seemed to be malicious. And why she thought, without anything to support her hypothesis, that the evil fog might possibly be responsible for Josh's death. Because if anything made less sense than the fog being evil, it was the fog being murderous. It was mist; an atmospheric condition caused by something she would have remembered if she'd seen earth science as anything other than a place to catch up on television recaps from Ali.

Bella shook her head as if she could shake her thoughts out of her like she used to when water got in her ear, hitched her bag onto her shoulder, and braced herself against the afternoon. Even though she was avoiding Edward, she still had to talk to Alice, because Alice was a persistent pain in the ass and had cornered her before A.P. English class. Also, Alice had bribed Bella with the tantalizing prospect of not riding the bus. She told Bella that she'd called her sister, who was still home on fall break, and her sister had agreed to pick them up. Not that, Bella admitted, riding with Cynthia and Alice was any great shakes, because Cyn was a gossip hound and wouldn't hesitate to drive around for hours before Bella broke down and talked.

Bella leaned against the exit and slipped through the doors as they yielded under her pressure. Cyn told Ali that she would pick them up near the main office so she could avoid the buses. Worried that Edward would somehow hear their plans, even though Bella thought they were talking in very low, and – she hoped – cryptic whispers, Bella chose to exit the building at the farthest exit from the main office.

When she spotted Cyn's car, and saw Cynthia doing her best to draw attention to herself, she realized how ridiculous she was being. If Edward, who was in all honors classes and near the top of his class, had any sense, he'd just wait near Cyn's car. And maybe get in a few free stares at Cyn, who was leaning against her car with her aviator sunglasses holding her blonde hair back like a headband. Bella snorted as she watched Cyn try to attempt an air of sophistication while standing in the parking lot of the high school she had attended three years ago. Nevertheless, Bella quickly pulled her hair out of her ponytail and finger combed it. Just in case Edward was around.

She was beelining for the car when a hand grabbed the strap of her bag and yanked her back a little. "Hey, where are you going?"

Bella closed her eyes briefly before turning around to face Edward. She rearranged her features to a sheepish smile. "Um, hey, Edward." She tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced up from beneath her lashes.

"Seriously. Are you trying to avoid me?" Edward tightened his grip on her bag. "Cause, I got to say, my feelings are going to be hurt."

"No!" Bella blurted out, a little louder than she meant to. "It's just that Cyn, you know, Alice's sister? Is waiting for us and she really hates this place and it was hard enough getting her to agree to pick us up in the first place. And if we make her wait behind the buses? We'll never hear the end of it, so I kinda have to go."

Edward frowned. "Did you breathe at all through that?"

Bella nodded and felt her cheeks heat up. "It's just – I get nervous and then I talk a lot to cover it up and it doesn't work so then I sound even more like an idiot cause I'm babbling and -"

"Whoa," Edward held up both hands, "chill. I was kidding."

"Oh," Bella said, then quieter, "oh." She wondered if there would ever come a day when she didn't sound like a moron in front of him. First she told him she thought a long-dead witch was responsible for the weather and now she couldn't shut up.

"Yeah. So," Edward brushed a hand over his hair, "this is totally not going the way I planned it."

"Okay," Bella said. Then she looked up at him. "You had a plan?"

"Yeah," he admitted, kicking a pebble to the curb. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "But it's mostly gone now."

"Well," Bella hunched her shoulders and stared at the space between their feet, "I'm sure it was a very good plan," she said consolingly. "What was it, just out of curiosity?"

"For starters, it required you waiting by your locker."

"So it was doomed from the start?"

Edward shrugged. "And then you also looked more excited to see me and less like I killed your cat."

"I don't have a cat," she told him seriously, but she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"Like I kick puppies for fun?" he suggested.

Bella took a deep breath, mentally crossed her fingers, and lied. "Honestly? I'm just so embarrassed by this morning. I was super-stressed and I didn't get a lot of sleep last night and I had these crazy dreams when I did sleep. And so this morning? I was kind of a mess and I'm a little embarrassed." It wasn't a complete lie, she reasoned. All of those things were true, but they were just overshadowed by the fact that she was pretty sure that something awful was lurking in Mercy Borough.

Edward stared at her. "Seriously now. How do you do that without passing out?"

"Practice," she mumbled. "Lots of practice."

"So you were avoiding me?"  
"Sort of, but not really. Only because of the aforementioned mortification factor." She covered her face with her hand. "I feel like such an ass."

He tapped her wrist lightly and she lowered her hand. "Hey, no, it's okay. It was no big deal." His fingers curled around her wrist and stayed there.

She breathed an internal sigh of relief that he wasn't going to press the issue. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," he assured her.

"Good," she nodded. "But, I really do have to go now." She jabbed a thumb in Cyn's direction. Shooting a glance over her shoulder, she saw that Alice had joined Cynthia while she was talking to Edward. "Or else my ride is going to murder me. Or leave me here." She frowned. "I'm not sure which is worse."

"Being left here, definitely." Edward scanned the parking lot and rubbed the back of his neck. "I could always give you a ride, maybe. If you want."

Bella smiled. "Ali and I have stuff. Stuff to do, I mean. Homework type things, you know?" And there she was, from normal to idiot in the space of fifteen words.

"Yeah."

"So I'll talk to you later maybe? Or whatever?"  
He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her in the direction of the car. "Go." He gave her a little push. "I'll call you later."

She nodded. "Right. Cause otherwise I have to walk and the only way home is…" She let the sentence trail off.

"Through the woods, I know."

She swallowed heavily. "Right," she said again. "Bye, Edward."

"So what were you two talking about?" Alice tossed her pen onto the café table and turned to face Bella.

Bella looked up from her trig homework and shrugged. "Nothing really," she said. "Mostly I just apologized for being so nuts this morning."

"Glad you brought it up." Alice clapped her hands and leaned forward to take a sip of her frappucino. "What exactly happened this morning?"

Bella buried her face in her hands. "I think Edward was right. I was really just stressed and stuff, so I saw something that wasn't there. Like how people hallucinate when they're really tired?"

"I understood about every fifth word. You sounded just like Charlie Brown's teacher."

Dropping her hands into her lap, Bella leaned back against her chair. "I just said, basically, I think Edward was right: I was stressing and my mind just made stuff up."

Alice studied her for a minute. "I call bullshit," she said.

"But I'm telling the truth," Bella cried, sitting upright and crossing her fingers under the table. "You can't call me out for that."

"Nope." Alice shook her head and pointed at Bella. "You're totally lying. Your eyes got all big and," she ducked her head under the table before Bella could uncross her fingers, "your fingers are crossed."

"Could we not?" Bella asked. "I mean, it's really no big deal."

"It is a big deal if you avoid us at lunch and you ruin things with Edward because you're upset about something but won't say what it is."

Bella twisted a strand of hair around her finger and stared out the window at the rush hour traffic. "I really don't know how to explain it. Because it totally doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" Alice asked.

"The whole thing," Bella answered her. "All of it. It's like none of this stuff should be happening and it is. Or I should be going crazy, but I'm not. I just, I can't explain it."

She turned in her chair to face Alice. "Do you remember about a month ago when Rose made me go to the clearing? And you couldn't because you had violin lessons?"

Alice tapped her finger against her chin. "Vaguely, why? I remember wanting to go, but all of that stuff got eclipsed by the Emmett/Rosalie fiasco that happened after it."

"Yeah," Bella murmured. "I stayed in the clearing longer than five minutes," she blurted out.

"Really?" Alice's eyes widened. "But nothing happened to you so clearly that story's not true."

"That's the thing," Bella near-whispered. "I think something did happen." She looked at Alice. "I went back," she said. "After walking in on Rosalie and Emmett, I went back to the clearing. I'm not even sure how I got there; I just remember running in a direction I know Rosalie wouldn't follow. Like, I knew, despite only being there once, that I could get there and she wouldn't follow me."

"Bella, that doesn't mean anything. Lots of people find that spot by accident. That's how Rose found it."

Bella nodded. "I know," she agreed. "But it's what happened there."

"Did you go in again?"

"No, but," she stopped and sucked in a ragged breath.

"But what?" Alice pressed.

"But there was this wind."

Alice's forehead wrinkled. "I don't get it. So what's the big deal? There was a breeze."

"It, it," Bella stuttered. "Itsoundedlikeitwastalkingtome."

"What?"

"It sounded like it was talking to me," Bella repeated, slower this time. She could feel tears pressing against the corners of her eyes and she closed her eyes against them.

"It was talking to you?" Alice leaned back in her chair. "What did it say?"

"You believe me?" Bella's voice caught on the question. She curled her fingers into her palms as she tried not to cry.

"No," Alice admitted with an apologetic smile, "not really. But I'm willing to hear you out."

Bella sniffled. "It asked why I was crying. And it offered to help me. And it played with my hair," she remembered, running her fingers over the ends, unconsciously mimicking the breeze.

"Could you maybe have just been so upset with the whole Rosalie thing that you thought you heard something?"

"I don't know. Maybe? But then there was this whole thing with the fog. It sort of followed Edward's mom's car when we were driving back from the movie. Even Edward noticed it. That's what we were talking about this morning. Edward wanted to know how come I knew it wasn't right. But then he didn't believe me when I told him my theory."

"Which was?"

Bella took a deep breath. "That it was the witch. He was all, 'Bella, she's not real and even if she had been real, she's been dead for forever now, so it can't be her.' That's when he told me I was stressed. But it doesn't explain the _things_ in the fog. Or maybe even Josh."

"The things in the fog? Josh?" Alice asked weakly.

"It sounded like, kind of like how you imagine the nails on the roof of the car to sound like in that urban legend? Or like something looking for a way into a building."

Alice paled. "Josh?"

Bella shook her head. "No, that's just a theory." She mumbled, "Like everything else has been."

"Did it sound kind of like mice in a wall maybe?" Alice asked in a small voice.

"A little bit, yeah. Why do you as- You heard it."

Alice nodded. "Maybe."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: As always, immeasurable amounts of thank yous to Vampshavelaws for the betaing, the comments, and the laughs from the comments. She makes this pretty. Thank you! And thank you to everyone who is reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following! I'm terrible at review replies, but please know that I love hearing from you and cherish each review. Thank you oodles and oodles. As usual, no posting schedule, but I finally lined up a bunch. Look for the next on Halloween! Seems appropriate.

7.

The wind blew in from the coast, carrying heavy rainclouds on its back, and laid siege to the area. It rained in the morning and it rained in the afternoon. Water pooled on the fallow fields and filled the drainage ditches. The creek that meandered alongside the town swelled until it resembled small rivers that twined through the woods surrounding the town and then exceeded its banks.

The wind whipped the rain, turning downpours sideways and pelting windows until it reached a timorous clamor. Water puddled in school hallways; it seeped into basements and trickled through shingles into attics.

And in the woods, in the woods the trees bowed under the pressure of the wind. They swayed and twisted and their leaves shook in the wind's force. Closer to the clearing, closer to the spot where nothing grew and animals would not tread, the branches realigned. Limbs that twisted outward shifted under the weight of the air, as if paying homage to a thing that was only beginning to make its presence felt.

Alice pushed her hood back and gave her umbrella an angry shake. "Ugh," she groaned. "I'm really beginning to hate this weather. Do you even remember the last time it was sunny?"

Bella shook her head. "I think you're just making this sun business up to me keep me from jumping into the creek."

Alice placed a hand on Bella's arm. "No, really, Bella, it exists. It's big and yellow and heats the air and gives us light."

Bella slumped against a locker and stared at her once-dry sneakers. It was time to break out the boots, she decided. She wiggled her toes in her shoes in farewell. "I do not believe you."

"Faith is the evidence of things not seen," Alice quoted.

"On an unrelated note, or maybe a too related note, have you had any thoughts about our conundrum?"

"You mean the possibility that we're being haunted, or maybe even hunted, by a thing we know nothing about?" Alice's voice dropped into a whisper as she cast an anxious glance around the hallway.

"That is exactly what I mean." Sliding down the bank of lockers, Bella stretched her legs out in front of her. Tilting her head back so she could see Alice, she asked, "Well, have you?"

Alice nodded. "Yes, but I'm no closer to figuring things out than the last time we talked about this. Which was yesterday," she mumbled. Alice peeked at the mirror suspended from her locker door and scowled. Fishing a ponytail holder out of her pocket, she yanked her hair into a messy bun and slammed her locker door shut. She held a hand out to Bella. "Come on, we still need to stop at your locker."

Bella grabbed Alice's hand and let her pull her up. "We need to do research, I think."

"But how do we look for something that doesn't exist?"

"We're like King Pellinore and the Questing Beast." Bella bounced on her toes.

Alice gave her a long look. "I really hope that one day Mrs. Schneider comes to appreciate how much damage she did making you read The Once and Future King. Anyway, where do we start?"

"I don't know," Bella admitted. "Maybe we should figure out if she was real or not first." The girls stopped at Bella's locker and Bella spun the combination lock. "I think that would be a good first step."

"That's going to be really hard," Alice pointed out unnecessarily. "It's not like record-keeping was that great and the town is over two-hundred years old."  
"Over three, actually." Bella lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I looked it up last night," she added.

"So that adds to our list of problems. Not only do we not know if she existed, but we also don't know when she existed."

"Definitely," Bella agreed. "I'm going to go ahead and guess that she probably wouldn't appear on land grants or tax records, either."

Alice shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. "Maybe," she hedged. "Then again, maybe not."

Bella's hand paused over her bag's zipper. "What do you mean?" she asked as she shut her door.

"What if there was a period where they, the townspeople, didn't think that she was a witch right away?"

Bella frowned. "It was just later? I don't know. I think if I lived back then I'd be awfully suspicious of a woman living by herself in the woods."

"Good point. Well, what if they had their suspicions but something happened and made them snap?"

"When I was researching the area last night, I saw all this stuff on how the town used to have all these iron forges on its outskirts. What if her house was in the way of one?"

"So she was a holdout against a greedy business guy?" Alice asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Bella swatted at a strand of hair tickling her cheek, "and they made up all that stuff about her being a witch to get their way."

"It could work," Alice conceded slowly, "as a theory. Except," she hesitated.

"Except what?"

"Except that if she's responsible for the fog and that wind you heard, then I have got to think she was a witch. A real one."

Bella nodded. "And that's a problem."

"That's a problem because they don't exist."

"Neither do ghosts," Bella reminded her.

* * *

"We need a distraction," Alice declared a few weeks later. "My brains are about to ooze out of my ears."

"That implies you actually have one," Bella murmured as she skimmed the contents of a web page.

"Har har." Alice rolled onto her back and stared at her bedroom ceiling. "So I was thinking…"

"Yes?"

"We need a break."

Bella snorted, "From not finding anything?"

"No, from trying to find stuff." Alice raised her leg and pointed her toe. She pulled her leg closer to stretch her muscles. "And your boyfriend is going to dump you if you don't spend some time with him."

Twisting in her chair, Bella said, "He's not my boyfriend. He's – we're – he's not my boyfriend."

"Liar!" Alice released her leg and pointed at Bella. "Your eyes got all big again."

"Damn," Bella huffed. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I have really got to work on that."

"You do." Alice lowered her leg and raised the other one. "Anyway, like I was saying, we need some sort of a rest."

"Like what?"

Alice shrugged. "Camping?" she suggested.

"You," Bella raised her eyebrows, "you want to camp. Alice, you don't like dirt."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Not like camping-in-a-tent camping. My parents are renting this cabin in the state park for the weekend. They said I could bring friends."

"So, me and who else?"

"You, me, Rosalie," she ticked off the names on her fingers, "Edward, and Emmett. I mean, obviously the boys will have to sleep on the floor in the main room, but Mom and Dad said it was okay."

Bella hedged, "I don't know, Ali."

"You're going to have to talk to Rosalie sooner or later. You managed lunch on Tuesday okay. And, sure, okay, you didn't talk to her really and she didn't talk to you, but still, it was nowhere near as hostile as it could have been. So that's something."

"It's not that. Okay, it's mostly that," she amended when Alice stared blandly at her. "But I just think it will be so awkward. And won't it be weird for you, too? Rose and Emmett are joined at the mouth and Edward and I are pointedly ignoring the weird place we're in."

"Thanks for pointing out that I'm the only loser without a boyfriend."

"I didn't mean it like that," Bella defended herself. "Really, I didn't. Besides, your boyfriend exists. He's just off in far-off climes doing the higher education thing."

"Are you and Edward going to spend the whole weekend making out in front of me?"

"Ew, gross. No. Your parents will be there."

"That's what I'm saying. C'mon, please. I'm tired of being in the middle and I want to spend time with both of my friends."

"I'll think about it," Bella promised.

"Yay!" Alice clapped her hands.

"I'm not promising anything. And you still have to talk to everyone else, too."

"Already done."

"Even Edward?"

"He was the first one I talked to. Honestly, Bella, I'm disappointed that you would think I'd leave you an opportunity to escape."

"Fine," Bella grumbled. "Camping. Yay." She held up her hands and waved them in mock celebration.

"That's the spirit! Now, back to work."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not mine!

A/N: Thank you in heaps and bunches for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm once again a complete fail at replies but! I have an excuse (in my head)! I'm working on something for the Age of Edward contest… It sounded better in my head. Again, none of this would be possible without Vampshavelaws. She makes it awesome!

Oh! I've been nominated for the TwiFic Fandom Awards! You likely didn't hear my squealing because it was in a pitch only dogs could hear. That's the coolest! Thanks!

Happy Halloween!

8.

This was the absolute last time, Bella promised herself, that she let her friends talk her into going into the woods. They were crammed into the Brandons' minivan; Edward, Bella, and Alice shared the third row seat, while Rosalie and Emmett shared the second row with a cooler. Bella stared at the back of Rosalie's head because she was stuck in the middle seat and couldn't look out the window without seeming like a creepy starer instead of a petulant teenager.

The seatbelt buckle stabbed at her hip and she slid into Edward or Alice every time they went around a bend. Edward had flat-out refused to sit in the middle, apparently guys didn't do that. Bella was suspicious of that statement. Alice pointed out that Bella was shorter than all of them, and Bella pointed out that Alice was actually an inch shorter. Alice added that Edward was Bella's not-boyfriend, not Alice's, and when that argument wasn't considered persuasive, she tripped Bella and ran.

So here she was, squished in the middle seat between her best friend and not-boyfriend, staring at her former best friend's now-purple head.

The van turned again and Bella hip-checked Edward this time. "Sorry," she whispered as she struggled to right herself.

"S'okay."

"Okay, kids," Mr. Brandon put the van in park as the stopped beside a cabin, "we're here." He turned in his seat to face the five teenagers. "Before you get out. Ground rules.

"Edward, Emmett, you guys are bunking in the main room. Girls, you have the second bedroom. There will be no even numbers in the main room after dark unless it's Edward and Emmett. Do I make myself clear? You can all sleep out there, though. Also, there will be no boys in the girls' room."

The teens nodded.

"Okay then." He opened the car door, then turned back around. "And remember, the walls are thin and, despite what you might think, Mrs. Brandon and I are much smarter than you give us credit for."

"Ugh, Dad," Alice groaned.

"Remember that," he repeated, ignoring his daughter.

Mrs. Brandon smiled. "On that note, let's camp!"

* * *

"This is not at all awkward," Bella said as they shuffled through years of fallen leaves. "And that's what I like about it."

Edward shoved his hands into his pockets. "Tell me about it," he mumbled. When Alice had told him about the weekend at the cabin she'd omitted a few details: namely Rosalie and Emmett and the fact that Bella didn't speak to either of them. He wasn't unobservant and Bella had confirmed that there had been some kind of a fight, but either she had really downplayed it or he hadn't realized that it was so severe. Or that it seemed to be extremely personal.

Bella slipped a hand around his elbow and he tightened the muscles in his arm to press her closer to his side. "I'm sorry about this," she said, looking up at him. "It's kind of a mess."

Although the late afternoon sunshine was strong, the ground was still boggy from the days of rain. Edward's Converses made sounds like a suction cup being released as he followed her through the woods. The walk had been his idea, a way to escape the really awkward conversations and long pauses in the cabin. Bella would only talk to Alice or Edward, while Rosalie would talk to everyone except Bella. Emmett mostly sat silently, his fingers twitching like he was playing a video game in his head. Edward understood; he would cheerfully push the whole cabin into the lake for a chance to be in his bedroom with his Xbox.

"It's not your fault," he said.

Bella batted at a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. "It is, kind of. I mean, I could be a little less…" she shrugged. "A little less. But instead, I'm being kind of a bitch." She gave him an apologetic smile as she stepped onto a log that allowed her to look directly into his eyes. She placed her hands on his shoulders and his arms slid around her waist to balance her.

She bumped her mouth against his and snaked her arms around him. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and sighed into her ponytail. "Hey," he asked after a minute, "can I ask you? Will you finally tell me what happened with you and Rosalie?"

"Um," Bella bit her lip and pulled back slightly, "I – it's a really long story." She hopped off the log and wound her arm around his elbow again.

"I've got time." He stepped over the log and gestured at the empty woods with his free arm.

She sighed and kicked at the leaves. "It's no – I don't want to tell you," she whispered.

"Huh." His stomach sank and he pulled his arm free from her grasp. "Okay." He paced away from her, closer to the lake in the middle of the campground.

"Not 'cause I don't trust you or anything." Bella jogged after him. "I do. It's just, I'm afraid you'll take it the wrong way."

Edward paused in his search of the lake's banks for a skipping stone. "How could I take a fight between you and Rosalie the wrong way?"

Bella nodded. "See? This is the thing. Before you and I were," she waved at the space between them, "this, I kinda had this teeny, tiny," she pinched her thumb and forefinger together, "crush on Emmett. It was nothing." She shrugged. "Anyway, Rosalie knew about it and I walked in on them. Apparently they were dating for a while and didn't tell me."

Edward tossed a stone into the lake and watched the ripples spread across its surface. "So she broke a girl rule," he summarized. "And you didn't think you could tell me this because why?"

"Because." Bella threw her hands into the air and let them fall against her thighs. "I don't know. I thought, maybe, you'd take it – not the wrong way, but not how I intended it to sound."

He turned to face her. "Did you think that I would think I was a second choice?"  
She shrugged again and looked away. "Yes," she squeaked. "No? I don't know. Maybe. Apparently I suck at interpersonal relationships."

"Interpersonal?"

"Vocab word," she explained. "Along with burnish, but I don't think burnish works here."

"Nope," he agreed. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "You didn't give me enough credit." He winced as the words left his mouth. Someone was going to revoke his man card soon or line him up as Dr. Phil's replacement.

"I did," she protested. "Sort of. I just didn't want to hurt your feelings. Because that little nothing thing for Emmett? It's gone. Poof." She opened and closed her fingers.

"Good to know," he murmured.

"Are you mad?" she asked in a small voice.

Edward contemplated the question as he kicked his foot against an exposed root. He realized he didn't have a good answer to it.

"Edward?"

"Yeah," he answered, "I don't know. The thing is, I think you're a cool girl, but you're not being on the up and up with me. And you're hiding something. A big something, I think."

"I'm not," she said.

He blew out a breath. "You are. And I don't think this thing with Rosalie is it, either. And when it comes down to it, I'm kind of pissed that you thought my ego was so delicate that I couldn't handle the fact that you didn't spend the entire four years in school pining after me waiting for me to come to my senses."

"That's not true."

"Yeah, it is. Or your ego is huge that you think I'd be crushed finding that."

"No, it's not," she insisted, twisting her fingers together. "I didn't think that, I just didn't want to mess whatever this was up."

He rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. "Say I believe you, that still leaves the fact that you're keeping something else from me."

"I'm not," she cried. "Why won't you listen to me? I just told you everything about what happened with Rosalie. Everything! Unless, of course, you want to know what color bra she was wearing that day?" She brushed a hand over her cheek.

"No," he shook his head, "that's not what I'm talking about. This is something else. It's the reason why you and Alice are always whispering in the corners and I'm not dumb enough to think it's about me."

"We're friends," she reminded him. She cupped her elbows in her hands and pressed her arms tightly to her stomach.

"That's not it," he argued. "It's something else."

"It isn't. Honestly, it isn't." Her eyes grew wide and Edward knew then that she was lying. He'd heard Alice call her on it once.

He jabbed a finger in her direction. "You're lying." He strode by her, shaking her off when she tried to snag his sleeve.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

He jerked his head in the direction of the cabin. "Back. You're lying to me and I'm tired of it."

"I told you the truth," she said. He could hear her footsteps crunching through the leaves after him.

"About Rosalie maybe."

"No, earlier. Will you stop?" She dashed around him and blocked his path. "The Monday after our first date."

"You said you were stressed about school. Is that what this is all about?" he asked skeptically.

"No," she said impatiently. "It's – it's the witch," she whispered.

He let out a disbelieving laugh. "Seriously, Bella? That's what you're going to use as your excuse?"

"It's not an excuse, because it's true. Alice believes me. That's what we're always talking about in class and stuff."

"Bella," he put his hands on her shoulders and ducked his head so he could look her in the eye. "There is no witch."

She nodded. "There is. And I think I'm the one who accidentally brought her back."

He dropped his arms and shook his head. "Listen, you don't want to tell me what's bothering you, that's fine. You don't have to. But I'm not sticking around to see what happens when you finally feel like talking."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When we leave tomorrow? You don't have to worry about what you can or cannot tell me anymore. I'm done." He stepped around her and walked back to the cabin. He didn't hear anyone following him.

Bella stood where he left her until she gave into the trembling in her legs and sank to the forest floor. She gripped the fraying cuffs of her sweater jacket and worried the loose strings. Her face stung from the wind and the tears that were drying on her cheeks.

The damp from the ground seeped through her jeans, but she ignored it. For the second time in a little more than a month she found herself alone in the woods and crying. She knew this weekend was a bad idea. She'd told Alice to stop playing peacemaker, but Alice wouldn't listen. So now she was stuck in a cabin with three people who she knew wouldn't talk to her and one friend who might possibly hate her for ruining the weekend.

She scrubbed a hand over her face. Her parents were home. Maybe she could persuade them to pick her up. But then, Alice would really hate her and Bella didn't want to lose another friend.

 _Crying again, little girl_? The breeze cooed in her ear.

Bella sucked in a deep breath. "No," she said out loud.

 _He left you here_ , it whispered. _All alone again_. _Poor little girl_.

"No," she said again, "that's not what happened."

 _Silly little girl_ , the breeze circled around her. _I know_. _I saw_.

The breeze danced over the patches of skin that her clothes didn't cover and curled around them. _I see everything_ , it told her.

Bella tugged at her sweater and forced herself to stand up. She needed to go back to the cabin. It would be better there, she told herself. "I'm leaving now," she said in a shaky voice.

The breeze stopped. _I'll wait_ , it hissed.

* * *

 _Bella_ , the fire crackled. _Bella, we've been waiting for long_.

Bella pressed her lips together and looked away from the flames. Sparks fell in the fireplace as a big log split and fell through the grate onto the bricks. The flames flared briefly then shuddered into submission.

 _Bella_ , the word was a dry cackle on the flames' tongues. _Listen to us_.

Wrapping her arms around knees, she pressed her face against her legs and shuddered out a ragged sob. The flames flickered and spit, calling her name as they lapped at the logs. She wished she had driven herself out to the cabin. It would have been so easy to slip away from the little cabin while everyone was searching for tinder for the fire.

Her thumb rested on the 'send' button on her cell phone, waiting for her command to press down and call Alice. Let the fire die, she wanted to beg. Just come back, please. But the others didn't, or couldn't, hear the flames' raspy whispers. And they didn't, or couldn't, see the way the flames gravitated towards Bella, how they ebbed and flowed on the logs until the section of the fireplace that was farthest from her contained nothing more than cooling, gray ash and the flames were concentrated in the corner near her feet.

"Go away," she mumbled into her jean-clad legs.

 _We need each other_ , the sparks said in a shower of dying embers.

"I don't need you," she said.

The fire sighed and the flames died down. _Bella_ , they shivered as a gust of wind slipped down the chimney.

"No," she shook her head against her knees. She cupped her elbows in her hands and pulled her legs closer to her chest. "I'm not listening to you."

 _They don't believe you_ , the flames sparkled merrily. _They left you_.

Bella remained silent. The flames danced as they took this quiet as encouragement. _We won't leave you_ , they promised. _Ever_ , they whispered.

She listened for sounds that would signal her friends' return. The night pressed against the windows, quiet and dark. There were no sounds of boots stomping through leaves or voices to break the silence of the woods. Taking deep breaths, she told herself to remain calm. Her friends would be back shortly and the flames would leave her alone then. She just had to be patient and wait.

 _We need you_ , the flames repeated, a little more insistent this time. _You have to help us_.

"No," she said quietly. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "No," she said louder. "I know who you are."

The flames sent a waterfall of sparks to the growing pile of ashes. It preened with her words. _Of course you do_ , they simpered. _That's why we want you to help us_.

She lifted her head from her knees and looked at the fire. The flames flickered and waved in hot ribbons, leaning towards her as if awaiting her answer. "That's why I won't," she promised the fire in a low, shaky whisper.

 _Bella_ , the flames surged as they shouted in outrage and disappointment. They flared angrily and Bella released her knees to scramble away from the fire place. Behind her, she heard heavy thuds and she whipped her head towards the door. Logs were scattered at Edward's feet and his eyes were wide as he stared at the fire that was now just a fire. "Did-" he began, but stopped. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. He looked down at Bella, still crouched on the floor. "Did the fire just say your name?"

* * *

"Yeah." He shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted awkwardly beside her. "I'm sorry," he said, "for not believing you when you first told me what was going on."

Bella studied the night sky, scanning the stars for the only constellations she knew, Orion, the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and wishing for an end to this conversation. She drew in the chilly air and held her breath as it stung her throat and lungs. She smelled the smoke from the chimney, the scent of damp and rotting leaves, and the odor of the decaying bricks of the cabin's foundation. The whole night air smelled of things on the decline and the end of the summer sunshine. She shivered as her blanket slipped off her shoulder.

Edward's fingers hovered over the edge of her blanket, as if to move it back into place, but then fell to his side without touching her. She pulled the blanket tighter and backed up to the bench that ran the length of the porch.

He leaned against the porch railing and angled his body towards the woods and the dark. "So what happens now?" he asked the night air.

Bella half-shrugged, not caring that he couldn't see the gesture. "I don't know," she said. She pulled her feet onto the bench and wrapped an arm around her knees. She wanted to ask him what he wanted to happen next, but she couldn't force the words past her lips. Her thumb traced the edge of her blanket as she looked everywhere but in his direction

Edward hunched his shoulders as the night air slipped between his jacket and his skin. "Cold out," he commented.

"I've noticed," she murmured.

"Bella, you have to talk to me."

"No," she said, "I don't think I do."

"I said I'm sorry," he pointed out.

Bella turned her head so she could see him out of the corner of her eyes, a darker shadow against the dark sky. "I know and I think you mean it, too."

"So what happens now?" he repeated.

"I. Don't. Know," she said. "There's just – there's just a lot going on right now and maybe this is all just a little much."

"A little much?" he echoed.

She waved her arm, the blanket flapped like a wing between them with her motion. "You. Me. Us. I mean, if there was an us. The witch. School." She listed the things she considered a little much.

He snorted. "Not to sound like the girl in the relationship, but of course there was an us. Why would you say that?"

She shifted on the bench. "I don't know? Maybe because we never really talked about it? Or because we've only been hanging out for a few weeks? And then, you totally dumped me this afternoon and the witch saw it."

"I said I was sorry." He nearly shouted the words. "Damnit, what do you want from me?" He paused, "What do you mean the witch saw it?"

"I mean," she said patiently, as if explaining it to a child, "we fought. You left. The witch saw it."

"Why didn't you say something?  
Bella bounded to her feet. "What the hell? Are you kidding me?" The blanket slid off her shoulders as she stormed over to him. Pointing at the woods, she said, "Do you remember this afternoon?" She waved in the direction of the woods where their fight took place. "I told you. I told you it was the witch and you dismissed it. Me. And now you ask why I didn't say anything? Screw you, Edward."

She spun away from him and scooped up the blanket, intending to go back inside. A slightly possessed fireplace seemed like a nice alternative. He caught her sleeve. "Wait, wait," he said. "Look, I'm sorry. Again." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Really."

She gave him a withering glance. "Edward," she said slowly, "let go of my arm. I'm done." She parroted his earlier statement.

"No."

She raised her eyebrows. "No?"

"No," he repeated. "We're going to finish this. You're going to tell me what's going on and how I can help."

She stomped her foot. The crack of her shoe against the wooden porch echoed in the dark. "I told you." She raised her hands to cup her head. "I've told you several times now."

"Humor me," he suggested.

"You know what? No." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "No, I'm not going to. You totally blew me off earlier."

"Oh grow up." He sounded exasperated.

"What?" Her voice was a near-shriek.

"You're acting like a victim here. It's getting old."

"You," she seethed, "dumped me earlier and wouldn't let me explain. And I should play nice now why?"

He tensed his jaw and dropped her arm. "I was wrong." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. I'm the bad guy. But can you please explain to me how I was supposed to think – rationally - that a myth was haunting you?"

Bella paused. "I don't know," she said over her shoulder quietly, "but Alice did." Her hand lay on the doorknob. "You should have given me the chance to explain."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Bella."

She nodded. "But you did." She rested her forehead against the door. "Maybe," she let a breath out slowly, "you can just give me some time? And then we'll talk?"

"How much time?" He closed the space between them.

She sighed. "I don't know. Enough time for me to calm down."

Edward placed a hand between her shoulder blades and she hunched away from him. "I want to help," he said, putting his hand in his pocket. "I really am sorry."

She nodded and turned the doorknob. "I know," she whispered. "I really do, but…"

"Yeah," he echoed, "but."

She slipped into the cabin. The door snicked shut behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: as always, only the setting is mine.

an: Thank you so much to the readers, reviewers, favorit(ers) and followers! Thanks, as always, to Vampshavelaws for making every thing pretty and coherent! ALso, thank you so much for whoever nominated me in the twific fandom awards! ANd thank you so much if you voted for me! This something I completely did not expect. But now you must all go vote for Vampshavelaws for her nominations!

9.

The woods surrounding Mercy Borough kept its secrets close. The clearing, the only clue in the mystery of the woods, was itself a mystery. Did the witch exist? Was she a witch or a woman victimized by the town and then by history? The trees would not answer.

Every once in a while, the force of the secrets became too great and some of them would trickle out. A whisper here, a sigh there. But overall, the woods remained silent.

How things changed. How things roared when awakened after centuries of silence.

Edward punched his pillow and rolled over. His alarm clock glared mercilessly at him, reminding him that he had to be at school in four short hours. In four hours he had to face Bella's daunting and persistent silence and the others' stares.

He screwed up. He got that. But, c'mon, it was a fricking dead witch. Who the hell would believe that? Besides Bella. And Alice. The ghost of a dead witch. He slapped his palm down on his face and dragged his hand across his eyes. Even now it sounded ridiculous. If he hadn't heard that raspy whisper from the fireplace, he never would have believed Bella. He'd graduate, move to college, graduate again, and grow old thinking his high school girlfriend had been cute but a total nut.

Edward turned his pillow over and flopped back onto it. Another minute ticked by on his alarm clock and he groaned in frustration. Rubbing his eyes with his fists, he ordered his body to go to sleep. The school day was creeping ever closer and the more he thought about it, the less sleepy he became. He had to find a way to talk to Bella. She had ignored him the rest of the weekend and the car ride home. He texted her once on Sunday night, not really expecting a response, but hoping, once she was home, she would calm down and see his side. Apparently, judging by the absence of her reply, that didn't happen.

On Monday, he thought he could corner her like he did after their first day and talk to her before classes. But Bella seemed to have learned from the past – or she had developed mad ninja skills – and had managed to evade all of his maneuvers. She must have changed the way she walked to her classes and where she was eating her lunch, too, because the girl was turning out to be as elusive as the Road Runner to his Wile E Coyote. Briefly, he wondered if he could paint a tunnel on the wall and catch her when she rebounded off of it.

Ugh, he groaned again, go to sleep, Edward. His thoughts were starting to turn against him.

He glanced out his window, half-expecting to see the sunrise, even though he knew it was too early and his bedroom faced west. He needed to talk to Bella. As each effort proved to be less successful than the previous one, he could feel the tension mounting, until here he was, sleepless on a Thursday night or Friday morning.

To make matters worse, a dead tree branch was scraping the side of the house. No matter what he did, he couldn't not hear the sound. He turned onto his other side and mashed a pillow against his ear to block out the metallic shriek as the branch scraped the aluminum siding. He briefly considered going outside to find the branch, but then remembered that he didn't have a saw or a ladder and that it was almost three in the morning.

It was all Bella's fault, he decided. She needed to listen to him. He needed her to hear his apology. And after the runaround she'd been giving him, maybe she could issue one of her own, too. Really, that wouldn't be asking too much, would it?

He started suddenly, sitting upright in his bed. He really needed to sleep. He could have sworn the annoying branch had just said his name. Shaking his head, he lay back down and tried to slow his heart rate.

Sleep now, worry about Bella tomorrow, he told himself.

Stupid boy, the branch scraped alongside the house in an angry rhythm.

"What?" he shouted, bolting upright again, dislodging pillows and blankets.

 _Don't ruin this_ , the branch pounded.

Edward jumped out of bed and threw his window open. "What the hell?"

 _You_ , the branch seemed to sneer. _You are getting in my way_.

"Jesus," Edward muttered, trying to ignore the shaking in his knees. "Jesus."

 _Go away, boy_. _Go away_.

Edward slammed the window shut and sank onto his mattress. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'd find Bella and really apologize.

* * *

"You are going to talk to me." Edward leaned against Bella's locker, preventing her from opening it.

"No, I'm not." Bella hip-checked him, trying to get him to move, but he wouldn't budge. "Go away."

"No." He planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. "You need to listen to me."

She shook her head. "No, I'm tired and cranky and I've had a really long day. I don't want to talk to you." She pushed his shoulder.

"This is important," he insisted.

She huffed out a breath and pushed her hair away from her eyes. "What?" She placed her hands on his shoulder and shoved, but he remained in place. "Will you get out of my way?" Her voice was nearing shriek-range.

"I'm serious, Bella," his voice dropped so it wouldn't carry in the rapidly emptying hallway. "I need to talk to you about – about the wit- about the you know who."

"No," she said, "I do not know who and I'm going to miss my bus and then I'll be stuck here, or I'll have to walk and I'll be seriously pissed." She leaned on her hands and shoved with all of her weight. "Move!"

Edward glanced down the hall towards the exit where he could no longer see the line of yellow buses. "Too late," he said cheerfully. "The buses are gone."

"What?" This time her voice entered the shriek-range. "What do you mean?" She looked out the doors. "How am I supposed to get home now? You are such a – such a," she stumbled over the words, "a jerk," she hissed out.

Edward couldn't help it. He tried, but it slipped. He laughed. "A jerk?"

Bella narrowed her eyes.

"That hurts. Right here." He tapped his fist against his chest and laughed harder when he heard her shriek again. "Please," he pleaded. "Stop. You're killing me."

Bella flung herself at him and raised her fist. "I'll show you hurts."

He caught her arm before her fist could make contact with any part of his body. "Okay," he gulped, "calming down now."

He smirked as she tried to pry his fingers off her wrist with her free hand. He cuffed her other wrist and held her still.

"Lemme go," she insisted, yanking on her arms. "When did you get so many hands?"

"Where do you need to go? The buses are gone, remember?" He turned her around so her back was pressed against his chest and his arms were wrapped around her stomach. "Would you calm down? I have a car. I can give you a ride."

Bella went limp, hoping it would surprise him and he would drop her. When he only tightened his grasp, she tried slithering her way out. "You planned this," she accused as her nose caught on his forearm.

"Yes," he agreed, looking down at her as she tried to figure out a way to free herself, "yes, I did. And I'm only beginning to realize the genius of it," he added, as her struggles exposed a sliver of skin along the waistband of her jeans and yanked the neckline of her shirt a little lower.

"Perv." She tried to angle an elbow into his stomach, but she was too close to be able to put any force behind it.

"Teenage guy," he corrected. "A genius teenage guy, but still: guy."

Her face red from her efforts, she glanced up at him. "Perv," she repeated. Blowing ineffectually at the hair that had escaped from her ponytail, she asked, "Since I appear to be stuck with you, what do you want?"

He nodded. "That's more like it, Swan. Glad to see you're seeing it my way." Releasing her, he scooped up their bags. "Get your book." He stepped away from her locker. "We'll talk in the car."

She pulled away from him and dialed the combination to her locker. Making sure the hallway was empty, she stepped back and punched him in the stomach.

"Oof," the air left his body in a soft whoosh.

"That's for looking down my shirt." She brushed her hands together and turned back to her books.

* * *

Edward tuned his radio to a local station and turned the volume down low. Bella sat silently beside him, staring out the window. The tension that had disappeared in the hallway was back in full force and it filled the spaces of the car. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change so he could pull out of the parking lot.

"Thanks for the ride home," she said quietly.

He glanced at her. "Well, since it was all part of my diabolical plan," he shrugged, "there's really no need to thank me."

A corner of her mouth quirked up. "It was a very good plan," she told him.

"I thought so," he nodded his thanks. "There was almost no way it could have gone wrong. I mean, there was no chance you would have beaten me to your locker or not gone at all and gotten on the bus while I stood there like a complete ass."

She snorted as she tried to smother a giggle. "Just out of curiosity, what would have happened if I'd made it to my bus before you had time to put your plan into action?"

"Hmm," he contemplated the alternatives. "My fallback plan was to bodily remove you from the bus, but that one had a lot of holes."

"How so?"

"Well, even though you're pretty tiny, there was a very good chance of me dropping you. And I didn't think you'd talk to me if I'd put you in the hospital. Plus, I think the bus driver would have frowned on those types of shenanigans."

"Shenanigans?" She turned to face him fully and arched an eyebrow. "Really? Are you eighty?"

"Shut up." He reached across the seat and tapped her on the nose. "I'm bringing it back."

She swatted his finger away. "You are not that influential."

He curled his finger around hers, relieved when she turned her hand around and twined her fingers around his. "Just you wait."

"Oh, sure," she agreed. "I'll just hold my breath."

"I don't know CPR," he warned her.

"So what brought on this evil plot, anyway?"

He took a deep breath. "The witch."

Her fingers tightened around his. He felt her muscles tense as she pulled her hand away and placed it on her lap.

"What about her?" she asked in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I should have listened to you."

She shook her head. "I'm sure I didn't sound like the sanest person in the world."

"Still," he said, "I should have listened."

"No, it's okay." She sucked in a deep breath. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch on Saturday. And that I've been kind of avoiding you since then."

"I knew it," he muttered and she shrugged sheepishly. "I think I heard her last night," he said quietly.

"What?" She turned to face him. "When?"

"Last night," he repeated. "I couldn't sleep and I think I heard her."

"What did she say?"

"She wants me to stay away from you."

"What?" she gasped. "Why?"  
He hitched a shoulder. "Um, she didn't exactly say."

"Well," she said in a faux patient voice, "did you ask?"

"Yes," he sighed. "Right after I decided not to piss myself because I was so freaked out." He rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid that, in my blind terror, I failed to ask what she meant."

"Oh," she smiled a little, "right. Of course." She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. "I wouldn't have been able to ask either."

"It was pretty terrifying," he admitted. "I don't know how you've managed so long."

She twisted her fingers in her lap and studied the dashboard intently. After a long pause, she said, "It wasn't easy. But, um, Alice helped. Until I talked to her, I thought I was going kind of crazy. I was on WebMD every five minutes practically."

He snorted and pulled into Bella's driveway. Shifting his car into park, he turned the engine off and silence filled the car. "So, what now?"

She flopped back against the seat and stared at her house through the window. "I don't know," she admitted. "How do you fight something that shouldn't exist?"

Edward nodded and rested his head against the seat. "Well, you and Alice have been super secretive and squirrely, what have you been doing?"

"Trying to find her," she said on a sigh. "It's really not working. We've been looking online at the town's historical records, but they don't really cover what we want. They just give general information. The town of Mercy Borough was founded in 1680 by a charter… blah, blah, blah." She waved a hand in the air.

"Did you try the historical society?" Edward asked.

"We have a historical society?"

"That answers that question. Yes. It's on Main Street. My mom volunteered there when I was younger. She used to make me sit still while she squealed over old papers. And there's always the library, too."

Bella placed a consoling hand on his arm. "Poor you," she cooed sarcastically.

"You want help?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Poor you," she said again without the tone.

"Better."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Not mine.

AN: Um, hi? Remember me? I am so, so sorry about how long this took. Really, really sorry. It was one hell of a summer. So, this isn't beta'd, because I wanted to have this out for Halloween. If there are errors, and I'm so completely sure there are despite reading this eight million times, they're my fault. (I want to make it clear that Vampshavelaws came nowhere near this with her magical red pen. Sorry about that too, everyone.) Thank you for sticking by me, everyone. I promise to do better now. Happy Halloween!

Quick recap: After Bella stayed in a mysterious clearing for longer than the fabled time limit, a thing has started haunting her hometown. It appeared to kill a student at her high school. Edward didn't believe Bella when she told him what happened, but did after a voice called out to him in the dark.

10.

He saw her when the wagon rolled by his father's house. He was sixteen, expected to strike out on his own, yet still apprenticed to the barrister in town. Her bright hair caught the sunlight and caught his eye as he surveyed the town. She was holding onto the side of the wagon with one hand and her hat with other, laughing at something the woman driving the wagon was saying. She was sunlight and new and he was hers. He would never regret that moment more or less in his long life.

* * *

The old Victorian building that housed the town's historical society loomed in front of Bella. It was probably her imagination, but it seemed to lean over her, making her a little leery of the condition of the steps. She gripped the handrail as the stair creaked under her weight. Although the front rooms looked dark, the website had said that the society was open to the public until four. She cupped her hand against the glass and peered in, but she couldn't see anything that would indicate if the building was open.

The door yielded to her tentative push and Bella stepped into the dim lobby. Old photographs of town's earlier years lined the hallway, with white, typewritten cards posted beneath them to indicate what the photos depicted. Bella drifted along the row of photos and studied images of buildings and people long gone.

A noise in the hallway signaled the presence of another person. Bella turned in the direction of the sound. A middle aged woman, Bella thought she looked slightly older than Bella's mother, stood in a doorway that led to another darkened room. "Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"Hi, yeah," Bella squeaked. "Thanks. I was, um, wondering," Bella pressed her lips together and took a deep breath to calm down. "I'm doing some research?" Her voice lifted at the end of the sentence to transform it into a question. "On the town?"

The woman gave Bella a tight-lipped smile and nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest and Bella realized that she was going to have a hard time gaining access to the archives. Why did Alice and Edward think she was the better person for this job? "Have you tried the library?" the woman suggested.

Bella resisted, although not without difficulty, the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah. Yes," she corrected. "But the stuff there doesn't go back that far. And someone suggested that I come here."

The woman eased into a chair behind the plain wooden desk in the lobby. "Well," she folded her hands on the desk, "how far back are you looking?"

Bella eyed the brochures piled in neat stacks on the desks. The brightly colored pieces of paper advertised the town's Victorian history and quaint eateries. It seemed like it was the only era the town liked to acknowledge. "The very beginning," she told the woman. "I need information about its founding."

The woman, Bella really wished that she had introduced herself so she could stop referring to her that way, raised an eyebrow and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure you understand, dear," Bella's teeth clenched at the term and the woman's tone, "that there really isn't a lot of information that has survived." She tapped a pencil against the desk. "And what did survive, is very, very fragile. We don't really just let people rummage through the archives."

Bella clutched her notebooks to her chest and said, "I know. I mean, I understand." She adjusted the strap of her messenger bag and shifted her weight. "But the lady at the library? She said a lot of stuff had been transferred to microfiche and stuff."

"Mmm," the woman shrugged noncommittally. "What, specifically, do you need?"

Bella's fingers tightened around the edge of her notebook and she took a deep breath. "I was looking for documents, or maybe diaries or journals, that talked about the witch."

The woman's eyebrows rose and the corner of her mouth tilted up in a sort of amused expression. "Well, I don't know how much information you're going to find on a myth."

"See," Bella said, "I don't think it's a myth."

"Really now?" the woman asked. She tapped a pile of brochures into alignment. "And what makes you think that?"

Bella lowered herself into one of the cane backed chairs and rested her notebook on her lap. She clasped her hands together and prepared to plead her case. "I don't think," she flexed her fingers and prepared to lie, "that she was a witch. Just a real person."

"Do you?" the woman murmured.

Bella nodded. "She existed, yes. And that's why I need to look at the archives."

The woman gave her a thin-lipped smile. "They didn't exactly have a census back then."

"I know what I'm looking for," Bella ground out between clenched teeth. "Are you going to let me look or not? I don't want to look at the originals. Just the copies," she begged.

"No," the woman's mouth turned down in an apologetic moue. "I don't think we have anything that fits your criteria."

"Seriously?" Bella's eyes widened. "You know this without even letting me look?"

The woman nodded. "There's nothing here that can help you, I'm afraid." She stood up and gestured for Bella to do the same. "And it's our closing time, now, so you'll have to go."

Bella locked her knees and refused to move. "Please, it's for an extra-credit project for school."

"I need to close up," the woman said. She opened the door and waved at Bella.

"Thank you so much," Bella said as she slipped through the door. "You have been so helpful." She rolled her eyes as she said this, well aware that she sounded like a bratty teenager.

"Good bye." The woman shut the door as soon Bella's back foot cleared the threshold. Bella heard the lock snick into place. She blinked against the last of the late afternoon sunshine and huffed out a breath. She was suddenly back at the beginning of her search and she had no idea how to proceed from there.

* * *

"It makes no sense."

"But that's what happened," Bella protested.

"Yes, I get that," Alice placated. "But it makes no sense that someone would be snotty about the archives."

Bella nodded and tapped her pen against her notebook. "I agree," she said. "Completely." She shrugged. "Unless she was in on it?"

"But in on what?" Alice snorted. "A three-hundred year old mystery isn't exactly a thing you can be prosecuted for. If there was an incident three hundred years ago."

"But what else could it be?" Bella wailed. She closed her mouth quickly when she realized how whiny she sounded.  
"I don't know. It's just so odd that they would be able to concoct and maintain some vast conspiracy for so long for no real reason." She glanced around her bedroom, searching for answers in her picture collages and bookcases. "I mean, it's not like we've been genetically blessed or the town is freakishly prosperous."

"No more Shirley Jackson for you," Bella chided. She dropped her head down onto Alice's mattress and sighed. "She was just so rude, you know? So rude. And I cannot figure out why. Maybe she was afraid I'd do something to wake her up?" She angled her face towards Alice and raised an eyebrow. "Lady, have I got news for you."

"That could be a reason." Alice drummed her fingers against the notebook resting on her bent knees. "But there would be no need to be so odd about it, you know?"

Bella sighed. "I do. It's just so clichéd, right? And that might be what offends me the most."

Alice snorted. "It's a terrible thing: to have been the victim of a trite smackdown."

"Yes, thank you for making me aware that I am at the end of my very short list of ideas and more than a little embarrassed."

"Who embarrassed you, Buttercup?" Edward jogged up the steps to Alice's room and dropped his backpack at the foot of her bed.

Alice held up a finger and waited for her mother to yell to keep the door open. When it came, she called, "Okay," and motioned for Edward to close the door quietly.

"Who embarrassed you?" Edward repeated the question as he settled into a chair by Alice's desk.

"The lady at the historical society. She was super rude. And I super don't like her."

Edward frowned. "I think Em's mom works there on Wednesdays. She's really nice, most of the time."

"Oh," Bella drew the word out. "Do you think?" She raised herself on to her elbows and stared at Alice.

"Maybe?" Alice twirled a strand of hair around her fingers. "Maybe."

"This part of the conversation makes less sense than the one I thought we were having," Edward interjected.

"Well," Bella scooted into a sitting position. "If Rose complained about me, maybe there's some trickle down resentment?"

"Why would Mrs. McCarty care?"

Alice snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "Exactly what we've been wondering all along."

"The end result is the same, though, right?" Edward asked. "We can wonder all we like, but we still need a new plan."

"So, in that vein, what do we know about witches?" Alice tapped her pencil against her notebook and looked over at Edward and Bella.

"They wear pointy hats?" Edward suggested.

Bella swatted at the air, mimicking hitting his arm with the back of her hand. "Nothing," she said. "We know nothing about witches or this witch."

Alice sighed, "We need to fix this."

"How do we stop this?" Bella asked. "She's incorporeal and really, really angry and getting kind of strong."

Alice shifted so she could access her laptop. "I really don't know. I mean, we pretty much know it's her and that she's real or was real and is now not real? How does that work anyway?"

Bella snapped her fingers. "Alice, focus. I ramble. Edward makes unhelpful comments. You get ideas. Our partnership was working beautifully."

At Edward's "Hey," Bella blew him a kiss. "I mean that in the nicest, least helpful way."

Alice sat up straight and shoved her hands into her hair. "I really don't know what to do."

"Can we try something? Like a spell or something? Anything other than sitting on our asses and letting nature run its course?" Edward asked.

Alice nodded and rested her chin in her palm. "There has to be someone who can help us, don't you think?"

Bella shrugged and stared at the poster over Alice's bed. "Who would help us? Who would believe us?" Glancing at Edward, she said, "You know how hard it was to believe us and even then you only did because you saw what you saw. And it still took something a little more to convince you."

Edward brushed a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. "But I believe you now," he said. "And someone else might too. What about Emmett and Rosalie?" he suggested.

Alice sighed and looked at him before turning to Bella. "I know you don't want to talk to them, but I think Edward has a point. I really think Emmett could help. His family is one of the oldest families in the town. They have to have something."

"But what good would it do? Say they have journals or letters or old newspapers or a very detailed and descriptive handwritten confession, how does that help us?"

"Well, for one think we'd know – maybe – what exactly she did last time to make a whole town turn on her. And maybe we'd be able to figure out how she died. And then maybe we could learn what not to do to get her stay away completely." Alice knotted her fingers together. "And the other reason why I agree with Edward is -," she broke off and stared at her hands.

Bella looked up at her from under her lashes, her finger freezing mid-loop on Alice's bedspread. "Is what?"

"Don't get mad," Alice whispered.

Edward let out a deep breath and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. She had pretty much guaranteed that Bella would get mad.

"Why would I get mad?" Bella straightened her spine and stared at Alice.

"I think she's using you. Or your energy. Or she did. And I think she wants to keep using you. So you need to forgive them, so she can't use that."

Bella jumped to her feet. "Are you kidding me with this? Are you seriously saying that this is my fault?"

Edward snatched at the hem of her sweater. "Bella, calm down. That's not what she's saying."

Bella shook him off and started to gather her belongings. As she shoved them into her backpack, Alice said, "No, no. That's not what I meant. I think that she used your emotions or whatever to release energy or something. I'm not saying it's your fault."

Bella blinked rapidly against the build-up of tears on her lower lashes. "No, of course you aren't." Her face felt flushed. A cold sensation crept through her stomach as she thought about what her friend was saying and how Edward wasn't rushing to contradict her. Her numbed fingers struggled with the zipper on her bag. "Bella," she mimicked, as she tried to get the teeth to catch, "calm yourself because being angry that one of your best friends kept a huge secret is making a witch all happy and tingly."

"Bella," Edward started.

"No, I'm going home." Bella marched towards the door. "I'm tired. I'm stressed and apparently partially to blame for someone's death. So yeah, I'm really just kind of want today to end now."

"Bella, calm down," Edward stood up. "She didn't say you're responsible for Josh's death. No one thinks that. Also, wait, because I can drive you."

Bella shook her head. "No, I'm going now. I really, really need today to end." She brushed a strand of hair off her face and rubbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. "I don't want this anymore. I just want today to be over." She darted out the door and down the steps before Edward or Alice could stop her.

"That went well." Edward fished his keys out of his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told Alice, "I've got a girl to catch."

* * *

She was not lost. She had waited patiently, oh so patiently, for this time to come around. She did not want peace. It would not come for her anyway and it mattered not at all to her. But she did want. Oh, how she wanted. And time was growing close.

* * *

Bella hitched her bag onto her shoulder and marched in the direction of her house. Alice was wrong, she told herself. She was not the reason for the witch. There had to be another explanation. Although she didn't know what it was and she had blamed herself initially too. But she refused to accept responsibility for something this awful.

The spaces between the street lights seemed larger and darker as Bella hurried through streets. Her temples throbbed and the cold feeling that started in Alice's bedroom seemed to have settled itself permanently in her stomach. She breathed deeply, trying to remember the techniques she learned in her mother's yoga class, but the shaky, slithering feeling wouldn't leave her.

She shivered as a breeze slipped between her sweater and her skin, trailing down her spine. She cursed herself for being so stupid as to leave a warm, safe house because she heard something she did not want to hear. Hunching her shoulders, she clutched her bag's strap tighter and picked up her pace. As she stared into the dark spaces between the trees, the dark moved.


End file.
